The Willemina and all its Properties
by the punchline
Summary: "You're a liar," said Sirius with a smirk, his eyes alight with the revelation. "That kiss did redirect the Nereus Ville! You fancy me, don't you?" Staring shamefully down at her hands, Charlie grumbled, "Only sometimes."
1. Some Snob Named Peculiar

Disclaimer: I do not own J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series, I just like to borrow her characters and play with them sometimes.

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><p><em><strong>The Willemina and all its Properties<strong>_**, a story of Harry Potter fan fiction by the punchline.**

It's Charlie Frazier's seventh year at Hogwarts, and she can't wait to get back to the Great Hall, the squashy armchairs, the exquisite meatballs, the _magic, _and most of all, her friends: the Marauders, the Ackerleys and maybe even Lily Evans and the rest of the Gryffindor girls. But of all the things Charlie expected from her final year, hiding behind a tapestry as her Arithmancy professor muttered nervously about Hula hoops, spending four dances in the arms of a Russian boy, venturing into the Forbidden Forest to find an antidote to a love potion she'd been slipped, finding herself arse over tits for Sirius Black, and then realising months later that the emotions she'd deemed side effects of said love potion might not be side effects at all… Well, they certainly weren't among them.

**Rating: **T, mature teens.

**Genres: **Romance/Humour, with friendship and later adventure.

**Pairings: **Sirius/OC, James/Lily, and a couple sidelines involving OCs.

**Language: **Infrequent use of the f-bomb. Though twice in this first chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter One – Some Snob Named Peculiar:<strong>

_Thick!_ Charlie Frazier was unable to keep an excited smile from tweaking the corners of her lips at the sound of her school trunk locking. She gazed at it for a moment. Packed full of all her clothes, school robes, books and equipment; it was completely ready for a seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But was she?

Wistfully, she stood and crossed her bedroom to her desk, upon which lay several pieces of folded parchment, each fraying at the edges from being folded and unfolded so many times. They were letters from her friends at Hogwarts, sent over the course of the past two months of summer holidays. Charlie picked up the first letter and unfolded it once more, grinning not for the first time at the very sight of the spiky scrawl inked across it.

The letter was from Charlie's best friend and fellow Gryffindor Selwyn Ackerley. It told her of his family trip to see Puddlemere United play the Cannons in the League Cup, and the daily struggles of living with his one year younger sister, Mac. _It's bad enough that she refuses to take down her Cannons posters (despite the fact that we absolutely thrashed them) but just the other day I saw that inept, uncoordinated joke of a beater Joey Jenkins, in all his bright orange glory, taking a swing at one of the gnomes in the landscape garden painting Mum has hanging in the kitchen. He missed, of course._

The next letter was from Mac Ackerley and told very much the same stories, but with more emphasis on the idiocy of her older brother. The small pile of parchment also contained letters from James Potter (_Quidditch Captain AND Head Boy – that's what I'm talking about!),_ his best friend Sirius Black (_stole both James' badges today – didn't cry as much as I'd expected him to)_, Remus Lupin _(How have your holidays been treating you, Charlie? … Yes, mother's health is still quite unstable…)_ and Peter Pettigrew _(Have you done that Charms assignment Professor Flitwick set us? Do you think you could owl me a copy?)_.

Just as Charlie finished skimming the last note, she heard her mother calling her from downstairs.

"Whaaaat?"

"I _said_, it's already five past nine! Are you going to say goodbye to Georgia-Rose or not?"

A quick glance at the clock on her bedside cabinet confirmed this jolting news, and Charlie swore before throwing the letters into a drawer (she wouldn't be needing them at Hogwarts), pulling on a sweater and hurtling out of her room.

On the way out of the house, Charlie passed the two bedrooms of her older brothers, Donnie and Sam. Donnie's room, much like Mac Ackerley's, was covered in posters of his favourite sporting team. But Donnie, unlike Mac, was a muggle; so his was plastered with the likes of Tommy Baldwin and Peter Osgood of Chelsea Football Club. The door to Sam's room was shut, just as usual. Being the eldest of the three children, he was renting an apartment in London, working for the Daily Telegraph.

When Charlie rang the doorbell of her childhood friend Georgia-Rose's townhouse, the time was nine-twenty-four. Her mother, Mrs Halloway, opened the door and with a warm welcome, ushered Charlie upstairs to Georgia-Rose – or Gee's – bedroom. She climbed quickly, despite the tickle of home sickness that was already settling heavily in the pit of her gut.

"Gee?" Charlie nudged open the door, and then –

"Oh!" she gasped with a laugh when Georgia-Rose, having been reading a magazine, threw it down and jumped up to envelope her.

"_Gee_…" she winced as the hug continued, unyielding. "Bones – snapping… Tits – numbing… _Lungs – crushing!"_

"Oh, shut up." But Gee released her, grinning like a guilty Cheshire cat.

They sat together on her bed, reminiscing of the short but sweet time they always had together in between school. Gee was a muggle who, not immediately related to Charlie, still didn't know of her childhood friend's magical abilities, and was under the impression that the fancy boarding school she disappeared to every year was just a strict, Nun-driven institution hidden away in the countryside of Scotland.

Charlie promised to write, as did Gee, and the two of them were giggling over the upcoming wedding of Gee's bodacious Aunt Dolly (of which she swore to send pictures) when Charlie glimpsed her watch face and realized she really couldn't put off her goodbye any longer.

Just as she was reluctantly getting to her feet, the doorbell rang throughout the house and Gee skipped over to her window to peer down at the front porch.

"Oh..." she frowned with confusion. "It's Rurik. What an odd time to visit…"

"Is this that Russian bloke you were telling me about? The one who moved into the house across the road last week?"

Gee's eyes lit up with cheek as she gushed, "Yes! Oh my god, Charlie, you won't _believe_ how unbelievably _beautiful_ he is – it's indescribable. I can't even – I swear, even _you_ will have a hard time finding your words!"

Charlie joined Gee by the window to look down at the visitor, but it was too late; Mrs Halloway had already let him inside.

"Well anyway," she said, facing Gee with reluctance, "I better get going."

"Do you have to?" Gee pouted, feeling sorry for the both of them. Charlie giggled at her expression before nodding.

"I'm running late as it is."

They said their last goodbyes (Gee actually teared up a bit) and Charlie turned to open the bedroom door to leave – when it swung out and promptly smacked her right in the face.

She stumbled back and hissed, grabbing the bridge of her stinging nose.

Swearing, Gee grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to have a look but Charlie bowed her head, furiously blinking back tears.

"It's nothing, Gee – it's fine –"

"I'm so sorry… Charl, was it?"

This was a new voice; one Charlie had never heard before but would have loved to hear again. The curbed, gravelly tone seemed to simply _grate_ through the air with a politeness many boys lacked these days. The accent ('I'm zo zorry… Charl, vwas et?') was, although immediately detectable, not at all as strong as she would have imagined. The resulting voice was so intriguing, Charlie barely blinked before she looked up to see what beautiful creature could have expelled it.

And beautiful creature he was.

Now, Charlie wasn't really the romance type. She wasn't into the blushing, swooning, flirting, giggling and eye-lash batting business. Very rarely did she grow smitten over – or even notice – the colour of a boy's eyes or the way his muscles bunched under his shirt. A majority of her good friends were boys so it would be plain counter-productive if she spent her days noticing their various levels of attractiveness, or analysing every brush of their hands or glimmer in their eyes.

But good god, did she notice Russian Rurik's breathtaking level of attractiveness. Sweet Merlin, did her own hazel eyes widen at the brightest, bluest blue of his. Dear _lord_ did her fingers itch to run through his neatly parted, soft, deep brown hair.

She very much almost _sighed _at the very sight of him.

"Charlie," her ears vaguely registered Gee correcting. "It's Charlie. Charlie – meet Rurik. He lives across the road."

"Hi," greeted Charlie after a moment of complete blankess. She flashed him a winning smile, despite the tears that still clung to her eyelashes and a nose that – no doubt – was swelling at an exponential rate.

Rurik shook her hand, blue eyes regretful yet warm as he apologised again for her injury.

"It's fine," Charlie dismissed, smiling as attractively as she could manage, "I've had worse."

Gee scrutinised her face with a grimace. "It's swelling pretty bad, Charl."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she growled, glaring at her nose before shaking her head decisively. "Well, I'm going to have to deal with it – I can't miss my train."

And with that, she hugged Gee one last time, gave a smiling wave to Russian Rurik and left the small English residence for Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

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><p>Charlie's trunk bumped against her heels painfully as she half marched, half stumbled through the swaying carriage of the Hogwarts Express. The train had already begun its journey to the castle, and Charlie had only just managed to get on it.<p>

A particularly violent swerve of the train sent her flailing and her body slammed unceremoniously against a compartment door. The abrupt thud her face made on impact with the glass had the compartment's occupants whipping round to stare at Charlie in shock. But she couldn't have cared less about the unwanted audience as – dropping her trunk and letting out a delayed groan when it fell on her foot – she slid dramatically to the faded red carpet floor.

Her sore nose had begun throbbing again and she raised a hand to pinch it gently, scowling as she tried not to think about the expression on her muggle parents' faces as she haphazardly kissed them goodbye and ran head-first through a brick wall. Hardly the proper goodbye she'd been hoping for.

Choosing to ignore the titters that could now be heard from the compartment behind, Charlie leant her head back and cradled her face irritably in her hands. Hoping this first day returning to Hogwarts was not an omen as to how the rest of the year would progress, she expelled another woe-is-me moan.

She couldn't even find her _friends._

"Can't you find your friends, Charlie?"

…

"Hmm?" she mumbled absently before letting her hands slide from her face. "Oh, no actually. I can't."

She peered up at Errol Camden, a skinny yet-to-go-through-puberty Ravenclaw with thin framed glasses and trousers pulled up to his rib cage. He sported a pair of ears that stuck out from his mousy brown hair in a rather confronting manner. When Charlie shot him a clumsy smile, he chuckled a wheezy, awkward laugh in return.

"Well, here – let me help you up." Errol shoved his hands in front of Charlie rather uncertainly and she smiled appreciatively before slipping her fingers into his. He seemed to have a little bit of trouble pulling her up, but that was okay because the awkward giggling cheered her up a fair bit.

"So, er, how were your holidays?" Errol asked as they moved down the Hogwarts Express, Charlie peeping into compartments every now and then in search of her mates.

"Oh – yeah," she replied distractedly, "they were fine. Yours?"

"Brilliant," Errol answered instantly, and started blabbering on about his last two months.

As he spoke, they passed another compartment and Charlie glanced into it, only to pause a moment later in shock.

_No. It can't be._

She turned to check again just as Errol said, "Me and my brother found a Crambinkle-Poxed Toad and of course, we dissected it. It was great f –"

He caught the alarmed expression Charlie wore and trailed off, blushing a deep red until he rather resembled a beetroot.

"…But you don't want to hear about that. Huhuh," he laughed nervously and Charlie joined in, not prepared to deny it. They continued into the next carriage and Errol flinched and stumbled forwards a few steps as Charlie's trunk caught on his shoe.

"You know, I can get that if you want," she said hurriedly, moving to take it off him. "You should really leave that old thing to an expert…"

"No, no," replied Errol, regaining his balance but yet to regain his breath. "I insist –"

"Charlie!"

She turned at the familiar voice, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted James Potter at the very end of the carriage.

"Hi James!"

The bespectacled teenager, tall and handsome, strolled over and pulled her into a quick embrace, ruffling her hair as he did. Her yelps of protest were cut off as he caught a look at her face and winced.

"Blimey, your nose looks horrid. What are you doing way over here, anyway? We're all sitting a few more compartments down, that way... Hi, Camden." James nodded at Errol, flashing the friendly smile that Charlie knew a lot of girls swooned over. Errol returned it with less ease, his eyes darting around the carriage uncertainly.

Catching on to his obvious discomfort around the confident James, Charlie smiled and said, "Thanks Errol, you've been a massive help – but I think I've got it from here. I'll see you in the Great Hall, yeah?"

Errol nodded. "Yeah. Alright. See you."

James took Charlie's trunk and they made their way down the carriage, James smugly pointing out his two glinting badges as they did. Just as the pair were nearing the end compartment (inside which she could hear her friends arguing loudly), he came to a sudden halt. She walked right into him from behind.

"James!" She whacked his back after recovering from the collision.

"Shut it, Frazier," was his only response before stepping forward with a particular swag.

"Sara! Leonie! ... _Lily_." The last was greeted with a special emphasis that Charlie would only describe as seductive. Shameless, that Potter was.

Charlie peered around James' broad shoulders as Lily Evans approached them, Leonie Franks and Sara Cunningham flanking her.

There was no denying they were quite the beautiful trio, and it seemed their faces had only grown more striking, and bodies only become more shapely over the holidays. Charlie fought the envious pout that threatened to twist her face.

Lily Evans was the most self-assured of the three girls, with her fiery red hair and equally daring emerald stare. She was the kind of girl who represented the perfect apples at the top of the tree, thought Charlie, the ones that boys were too scared to pick in case they fell and scraped their knee. Leonie was less confident, hence why her smile was timid as she returned the greeting. Her hands were clutched in front of her and the perfect brown curls of her hair bounced about her shoulders with a flamboyant flare she herself lacked. Sara, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her jet black, straight hair hung down to her waist. She was the kind of girl who possessed a certain strut, with small lips, usually pursed into an intimidating pout, that were a pale pink against her even paler skin.

"Looks like our humble British summer has treated you girls well," James was saying, and Charlie would bet a galleon that if he knew how to wink without contorting half his face into unattractive spasms, he wouldn't hesitate.

"Now Evans," he began in a stern tone, "If you really want me to get off your back about that whole marriage and babies thing then you're going to have to ease up on all those holiday letters and love messages. Really, I almost drowned in the parchment! Mind you, it would have been a heavenly way to die, surrounded by your doting affection and what not. But in all seriousness, Lily flower. I'm beginning to think you missed me almost as much as I you." After a lengthy pause in which James' utilised his well practiced Smouldering Look, he smirked.

But Lily, who was well practiced in Smouldering Look Deflection, only narrowed her eyes and quipped with the same mocking sincerity, "Delusional. I have to admit Potter, it's impressive that you managed to hide that alarming symptom from the St Mungo's psychiatric ward. That absence _is _the only reason they discharged you... isn't it? It couldn't be because they just didn't have enough rooms to support that massive egotistic head, could it, because if it is, tell me now and I _promise _I will do everything in my power to bring justice. It's the ministry's fault really – simply not enough government funding!"

James grinned fantastically. "I'm rallying up a protest. If you join, I promise it'll be one hell of a date."

Lily rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to Charlie with a wry smile. "Hey Charlie."

"Hey! Nice to see you all back."

All four of girls erupted into pleasantries until eventually someone said, "Well, see you in the Great Hall."

As the trio passed, Sara eyed James with disgust.

"Potter," she sighed. "Close your mouth. Wipe the spittle. Come on now, have a little dignity."

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><p>"That's everyone, then, isn't it?" Remus Lupin observed minutes later, after Charlie and James had joined them. His perpetually tired, golden brown eyes swept the compartment's occupants and finished with Charlie, who sat beside her goodfriend Selwyn Ackerley.<p>

"Everyone except Pete," said Mac Ackerley. Her dark brown hair was cropped short for a girl, but it suited her small, angular face well.

"Yup," said Sirius Black. "That's everyone."

He was lying on his back, taking up half the seat across from Charlie, with his long legs propped up against the wide compartment window. Hands folded beneath his head, his eyelids were drooping lazily as he gazed at the scenery that whooshed by outside.

Selwyn, a brawny Beater with short hair the same colour as his sister's, chuckled when he noticed Charlie's frown.

"Relax," he told her. "Pete's just gone to try and bribe the trolley lady into giving him her entire supply of pumpkin pasties for his two sickles."

"Mind you," said Mac, "He might be back if one of these boys went with him." She nodded at Sirius and James. "Or maybe Remus," she added, shooting him a meaningful glare.

Remus smirked. "No, it's always been Sirius she favoured the best. Ever since that pantyhose pasty incident. Isn't that right, Sirius?"

Sirius squirmed by the window. He frowned thoughtfully before sighing.

"Unfortunately lads, I think we've hit a bit of a rough patch in our relationship," he declared with a theatrical douse of despair. "She didn't even compliment my new haircut this morning. In fact, I rather doubt she's noticed… Doesn't quite look at me like she used to, you know?... The spark is gone."

This elicited a light chuckle from the group, from which no one could be bothered issuing a response.

"So," Selwyn began once the laughter died down. "Holidays?"

"As entertaining as Binns' attempts at stand-up comedy."

"Lily never once replied to my letters…"

"Selwyn and I watched the Cannons play Puddlemere in the Cup final!"

"Er – _no,_ darling sister, what you and I watched was not a Cup final –"

"Does one of my legs look shorter than the other to you?"

"I saw the most beautiful specimen of man today..."

" – It was the _warm up _of the Quidditch legends of Puddlemere, during which they just happened to be handed the League Cup –"

"… I even tried to call her on her telephant."

"I've been brainstorming ideas for a Start of Seventh Year prank, boys."

"Hup – No, one of the socks are just pulled higher. Here, lemme just…"

"He's Russian. Precedes his w's with a soft v when he speaks..."

" –simply because the Chudley Cannons would not be sufficient competition even if they replaced every member of the team _and_ got each new player to chug a gallon of _Felix Felicis_!"

"No good ones so far, but we'll think of something, eh? My _wrist _hurts."

"Shut _up_ Selwyn, now you're just being rude. The Cannons put up one hell of a fight!"

"There we are. Fairly equal lengths now, aren't they?"

"Ahem."

"Meanwhile, I'm sporting a nose as big and red as Rudolph's – _which, _by the way, was given to me by said beautiful Russian boy –"

"Yeah, fought hard just to get their bloody brooms off the ground, didn't they?"

"_Ahem."_

"Some snob named _Peculiar _picked up and told me to – actually. I'd rather not repeat that. It was rather nasty."

"You're such a prejudiced _git_, Selwyn! I'm so sick of your –"

"_AHEM!"_

The entire compartment fell silent as its occupants turned to stare with hostility at who dared interrupt their civilised conversation.

It was Felicity Parkinson, and she stood in the threshold of the compartment with an impatient scowl and a brand new badge glinting in the centre of her chest. Tall, blonde and menacing, the Head Girl's authoritative gaze had every one of the teenagers shrinking back into their seats.

Sirius was the first to speak.

"Felicity..." he greeted warily as he slowly sat himself upright. "Hi."

Her gaze flicked uninterestedly to the corner where he sat and she heaved, as if having to return his greeting were a great inconvenience, "Hello Black, how was your summer?"

"Dandy."

"Lovely. Where's Potter?" Her eyes latched onto James, who'd been sitting so close to the door she had to crane her neck inside to spot him.

"James!" She snapped. "What the hell are you doing? I've been waiting for you in the first carriage for over ten minutes!"

James raised his eyebrows at her and said, "Uh, no you haven't. I went up there ten minutes ago and now, correct me if I'm wrong – but I'm _fairly sure _you were preoccupied... What with Rick Davies' tongue down your throat and all..."

Felicity's eyes narrowed as Charlie and the rest of the compartment sniggered.

"Oh – no judgement!" said James in what he intended to be an assuring tone, "Davies is undoubtedly one fine hunk of man."

"Exceptional," deadpanned Remus just as Sirius muttered, "Can have _my_ babies any day."

Felicity glared at James with pressed lips. "I don't know how Dumbledore expects _you_ to be the leader of this student body. Now _hurry up_, the Prefects are going to be there for the meeting any minute now!"

But James wasn't listening, he was staring down at his two badges, rubbing at them determinedly with his sleeve. He shook his head, looking up at Felicity forlornly.

"No matter how much I shine them, I can never quite get them to _sparkle_."

Felicity's exasperated expression fast morphed into one of absolute disbelief. James jumped up quickly, teasing smirk in place.

"Only joking!" he said merrily, spinning her around and dropping his hands onto her stiff shoulders as he steered her out of the compartment. "I'm going to be the best Head Boy this school's ever had!"


	2. Something to do with Lady Parts

**Chapter Two – Something to do with Lady Parts:**

The following week found Charlie walking to class. Not running – _walking. _Perhaps a little enthusiastically.

So when Sirius Black rounded the corner, walked right into her and then accused her of being far too excited to get to Potions, she was not happy.

"How do you know I'm not on my way to Charms?" she challenged. "Oh – I get can that –"

"Right," he said sarcastically, ignoring her protests as, having collected a small reference book from where it had fallen on the floor, he handed it back to her. "Because Professor Flitwick is just an absolute cutie, isn't he?"

Joining the masses of students, they began walking down the corridors and as Charlie rolled her eyes, Sirius matched her slight grin with one of his own.

"Come off it, Frazier. All you seventh year Potions girls seem to find an extra spurt of energy on the way to class these days. It's as if none of you have seen a pretty face before – and we all know that's not true." He sent her a particularly wide, exaggeratedly charming smile.

She guffawed at his expression before smugly replying, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Admittedly, he does sit a notch higher than your past fancies. There's no denying there's something off about Finch-Fletchy..."

Charlie fought the blush that threatened to rise at the mention of her 'past fancies', total of one. Eamon Finch-Fletchy had been her first kiss, and they'd dated nearly two months in fifth year before Charlie realized she would much rather spend time with her friends than with him.

"Anyway," continued Sirius. "I'm this way. You better get a move on. Don't want to lose your seat, hey? I heard you've snagged one right next to the Magnifico."

"Oh sod off."

When Charlie finally made it to class, she was glad to see that her seat had in fact been saved for her. Errol Camden waved her over and ignoring (or was it glowing under?) the jealous stares that were shot her way, she took her seat not beside Errol, but on the other side of the boy he had managed to befriend over the past week.

"Good morning, Charlie," the boy greeted her, in his slight, pleasant Russian accent.

She arranged her quill and parchment and glanced up at him with a smile. "Morning Rurik."

On the first day of classes, Charlie had arrived early to Charms. She had taken a seat in the second row and slowly immersed herself in a daydream – one that included her hugely missed bed and warm sheets. So naturally, she was in quite the disarray when she realized someone was addressing her. She'd started and looked around to find Errol standing with a rather nauseated expression on his freckled face.

"Sorry?"

"Are these seats occupied, Charlie?"

But it wasn't Errol who had spoken. In fact, Errol kept his lips tightly pressed together while he anxiously knotted his fingers. Meanwhile, a head peered over his shoulder and flashed Charlie a winning smile.

It was Russian Rurik. Charlie immediately spasmed into a blinking fit.

He was just as beautiful as the last time she had seen him. Which, ironically, was only the day before, when she was back home. His eyes were still that brightest blue, his skin pale and smooth and his figure tall and slim.

Eventually, she spluttered, "But you – you're at Gee's house!"

Rurik took the seat next to her, apparently oblivious to the hungry eyed and open mouthed stares he was receiving from the young witches scattered about the room. He chuckled.

"I was yesterday."

Charlie's eyes darted to Errol, who peeked at her shyly from behind Rurik. "Hi, Charlie."

"Hi Errol." She stared at Rurik once more before frowning and turning back to face her parchment. Forcing nonchalance, she said, "So you're a wizard, then?"

The corner of Rurik's mouth twitched. "Yes. I have come from Durmstrang Institute. I have family here; you may know my cousin, Sara Cunningham?"

At the mention of her name, Sara looked over from the row behind and gave Rurik a fond wave. Charlie stared between the two. Sara wasn't _Russian!_ ("On my _mum's_ side," the dark haired girl would later sigh).

"Well!" she said. "In that case, I should introduce myself properly." Sticking her hand out, she smiled and said, "Hello! I'm Charlie. …Funnily enough, I'm also a witch."

Rurik had since become the highlight of many Potions lessons, and indeed all the seventh year Charms girls did seem to find an extra spurt of energy on the way to class. Rurik's courteous ways and intriguing character never failed to impress, and even Errol (who stuck to Rurik as if by Zonko's Super Duper Gooper-Glue) seemed to let loose his anxious comments more frequently in his warm presence.

That lesson found Charlie struggling to research and brew a liquefying potion, only succeeding in concocting something that smelled and looked like piss. The bell rang for the next class and Rurik muttered a quick spell to clear Charlie's putrid cauldron (was it any surprise that he was intelligent too?), for which she embarrassedly thanked him. He smiled humbly and as he left the classroom, so did a number of girls who could now be recognized as regulars in the Rurik Groupie Group. He pretended not to notice the swarm of giggling students that constantly invaded his shadow, but Charlie personally couldn't see how that was possible. They giggled so _loudly_.

Out in the hallway, Selwyn joined her. Throwing a heavy arm across her shoulders, he sighed loudly and launched into a dramatic moan over the hard life of a seventh year. Only a minute or two into his whining, however, his face lit up and he said, "You heard 'bout this colossal prank the boys –"

His eyes widened and his mouth clamped shut. "Nevermind."

Charlie's gaze narrowed at once. "What colossal prank?"

"Sorry Charl! No can do; this one's top secret."

Charlie frowned childishly. "I wanna know."

Selwyn shook his head again. "Lips are sealed, kiddo. But you know, I reckon you would've heard all about it had you not run off as soon you'd shoveled your eggs down your throat."

"There's nothing wrong with an eagerness to learn," Charlie simpered.

Selwyn smirked, knowing full well this was not the reason for her hasty breakfast.

"Whatever. Anyway, _you heard nothing_. If word gets round to Professor Aurnerie the whole thing'll blow and –"

Upon noticing Charlie's gaping mouth and incensed eyes, Selwyn's own eyes widened in alarm.

"You heard nothing!" he cried and ran off.

But oh, Charlie had heard _everything_.

Edmund Aurnerie, the Hogwarts Arithmancy professor, was notoriously known for being a right arrogant git. James especially had a great disliking for the professor, but after he reduced Leonie Franks to tears one lesson for not knowing the solution formula to a particular equation, the entire class agreed that Aurnerie needed to be taken down a notch or two.

Around Easter of last year, James had staggered into the Gryffindor Common Room with – what he and all the other boys seemed to deem – very exciting news.

"I just went to Aurnerie's office to hand in some charts," he panted, "and I found him _asleep_ – and _dreaming_."

This alone had elicited some excited murmurs.

Turns out, Professor Aurnerie talked in his sleep. And during that particular nap, the usually nasty and conceited man had tossed fitfully and muttered something along the lines of, "No, please – you know I'm no good… bad experiences with Hula hoops, please! … I can't – prune juice dances are beyond my skill level –" and some other nonsense.

This slight information was all the boys needed to start considering and formulating the demise of the professor. Charlie didn't know much about what was being schemed, but now it seemed the plan was finally being put into action.

And she did not approve one bit.

That afternoon, she and Mac marched (or, Charlie marched and Mac skipped) across the sloping lawns towards the Quidditch pitch.

"For Godric's sakes, Mac – _Hula hoops?_" Charlie snapped, flinging her arms about for emphasis as she walked. "Since when do they even know what they are?"

"I think Remus did some research over the holidays," the younger girl mused.

"This is stupid," said Charlie. "_They _are stupid."

"Eh, they're boys," shrugged Mac, with the same laid-back attitude often demonstrated by her brother.

There was an impressive crowd of Gryffindors gathered in the centre of the pitch when she and Charlie arrived, all awaiting their chance to impress James Potter and hopefully score a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

They pushed past the geared-up teens, Charlie with a frown that grew deeper with every whiff of bad BO that she inhaled.

Another Gryffindor crowd had assembled themselves in the stands, this one consisting of devoted fans holding up banners and flags and giggly girls screaming out encouragement to their boyfriends or fancies. Charlie noticed Lily Evans in the midst of the supporters. She sat beside Sara Cunningham and Leonie Franks, the former looking bored as she surveyed her nails and the latter sporting a nauseated expression as she grimly watched the players.

"Oi, back of the line, you tosser!" came a harsh voice as Charlie and Mac pushed past a particularly burly boy.

"Here's a better idea, Hinder_, _you rude little prick," came another shout from up ahead. "How about you get _your _arse to the end of this little queue? And then maybe by the time you get back to the front you'll have learnt how to talk to a woman, eh?"

Sirius was staring hard at Conner Hinder. The bulky fifth year went blank and his gaze flicked back to Mac, whose haircut must've been the only thing he noticed in his impatience. Obviously seeing a bit more femininity the second time around, he flushed uneasily before seeming to regain his composure.

"And who are you to order me around, Black?" he demanded.

"I'm Captain, you idiot. And you'll do as I say before I ban you from try-outs all together."

Conner blanched again. "But I thought Potter –"

"James is _Head Boy_, Hinder." Sirius spoke as if he'd just about had it having to repeat himself to an elderly man. "How much pressure do you think one boy can handle in his seventh year?"

He was still suspicious.

"Beat it, son!" Sirius barked in a military fashion. The fifth year reluctantly disappeared into the crowd.

Mac was frowning as Sirius moved forward to join them.

"You didn't need to do that," she told him in a grumble.

Sirius shrugged. "You trying out or what?"

Mac's expression turned affronted.

"Bollocks if the Captain's expecting me to prove my position on this team," she cried indignantly. "_No_, I will not try out again. If I got on the team three years ago and have been dishin' out high quality performances ever since, then I expect to be allowed to play this year as well! IS IT BECAUSE I'M A GIRL, HEY? SOMETHING TO DO WITH MY LADY PARTS?"

"Merlin's _beard_," Sirius said softly, gesturing at Max to calm down, "_No_, no lady parts or nothing. Bloody hell, Ackerly. I was just joking. Merlin."

While Mac continued to grumble to herself, Sirius looked at Charlie and raised his eyebrows. She lifted her own in return.

"We know what you're up to," she said mysteriously.

Sirius' eyes narrowed and he warily said, "And what are we up to?"

Charlie only lifted her eyebrows once more. "Where's James?" she asked.

He smiled wryly before yelling over his shoulder for his friend. Charlie wondered if James would even hear the call over all the hustle and bustle. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

"You didn't tell us you were Captain now, Sirius," accused Mac after a few moments. He looked at her as if she were deranged.

"I'm not captain, Mac."

"…Oh."

Silence fell between the trio, allowing the noise being made by the rowdy players to engulf them. The greyish sky was beginning its slow descent into a powdery navy. Finally James, in all his Quidditch captain, red-and-gold-robed glory, pushed his way out of the crowd. He stopped short when he saw the three teenagers awaiting him and broke into a wide grin.

"Hello! Come to see the man at work, have you?"

Charlie ignored him, opting instead to pleasantly remark, "You're insane."

James didn't bat a single eye behind their rectangular frames. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Charlie. I am _James_. Though with the number of people who keep telling me that, I think I might owl Mother demanding knowledge on any possible long lost twin brothers."

Again, Charlie ignored him and said bluntly, "I know that you're planning to pull that prank on Professor Aurnerie this term."

James' eyes widened and he immediately shushed her.

"What're you going around screaming stuff like that out for?" he demanded, head whipping about in paranoia.

"I can scream it louder if you want –"

Sharp and piercing, James blew his whistle at once. Having caught the players' attention, he quickly shouted out some warm-ups for them to get started on. As the mass of teenage bodies slowly began to disperse, he turned to Mac.

"Mac," he asked, "could you –"

"Sure." Smiling widely, the young chaser hurried to grab one of the school brooms and kicked off into the air, already shouting some more instructions at the hopefuls.

"Alright," heaved James, relieved now that all ears were fifty feet high. "Now what is it that's got your knickers in a knot, Charlie?"

"This prank that you want to pull off? It's mad. You're unhinged!"

"How do you know about the prank?" asked James, just as Sirius muttered, "I knew Selwyn wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut!"

"Aurnerie is going to descend into mental illness," Charlie insisted.

"Yes, that is the plan," James nodded.

"_James!"_

"I'm kidding, Charlie! Don't be ridiculous, it's just a bit of fun."

"You can't be serious," said Charlie.

"Hup!" said Sirius, "Mistaken again, Charlie – that would be me." He raised a hand, face deadpanned.

"_Fun_ was casting a Boomerang spell on Peeves' chalk," Charlie wailed. "_Fun _was sneaking into the kitchens for a midnight feast! Tormenting a teacher by taking advantage of his nightmares does not fall into the category of _fun_."

"Maybe not for you," muttered Sirius under his breath.

"The git deserves it Charl!"

"It doesn't matter if he deserves it or not, James, you could get yourself – and everyone else, too – into a lot of trouble. Doesn't that badge mean _anything _to you?"

"The badge forms the basis of my motivation! I'm doing this on behalf of the student body," he said importantly.

"This isn't just your regular _Marauder _mischief!" she cried, fighting the urge to stamp her foot. "This is a whole new ball park! A whole new Quidditch pitch! A whole new Quidditch _league!_"

"Whass she talking about Quidditch for?" said Sirius, sounding thoroughly confused.

"Charlie, come on. It'll _work_, no one will get hurt. Professor Aurnerie's karma will be returned to a healthy balance, and we'll be none the wiser!"

"None the wiser? Is that right?" mused Sirius.

"Er, I think so," James replied with genuine thoughtfulness. He repeated the phrase several more times in different tones. Each repeat had Charlie's expression morphing more and more into one of complete irritation. For the eighth time, James tried out the saying; "None," he paused dramatically, and Charlie's eye twitched, "the _wiiiii_ –"

"Alright fine!" She screeched, earning a look of agitation. "Obviously, nothing I say is going to make any difference, but just know that you are not pulling me into any part of this, and I mean it! No using strands of my hair, no borrowing my sneakoscope, no borrowing my _voice_ –"

"Come on now Charlie, we promised that would be a one time thing –"

"No using me as a _sentry _even! I will have no part in this!"

"_Fine! _It's alright if you're too chicken to participate –"

"I'm not chicken, I'm _sane."_

"Same thing, really," Sirius mused.

"– _because _the boys and I have already decided it's too risky to involve anyone else anyway. You were going to be spared out of gallantry," James finished smugly.

She rolled her eyes and was about to retort when a quivery voice interrupted.

"Excuse me, Captain – I think I'm late, and…"

"Errol!" Charlie, despite her agitation, smiled.

He blushed and avoided her gaze.

"Hi, Charlie."

Errol Camden looked… shocking, to say the least. He wore a strange kind of padded helmet that was fastened tightly beneath his chin, making his sallow face squash in together. His gloves were old and frayed, sporting holes in the exact spots they were meant to protect, as were his shin guards. Charlie could smell the ancient body odour wafting off his oversized Quidditch robe, which hung on his thin, hunched form like a curtain. His feet, spread like a duck's, stuck out from beneath the robe on what looked like hairy stilts that appeared as if they were on the verge of snapping. Charlie looked away quickly.

"You're trying out?" She tried to keep her surprise and consequential concern out of her voice.

"Yes." Errol seemed ready to throw up.

"Why?" Charlie asked, before she could help herself. Her voice came out bluntly horrified.

He blinked at her from behind his enormous glasses. "I-I thought you _liked_ Quidditch, Charlie."

She frowned. "I _do_, but…" She trailed off as Errol swayed dangerously.

"You alright there, mate?" Sirius clasped his back. Errol stumbled forward several steps because of it. When he straightened, Charlie, Sirius and James were all ready to jump forward in case he collapsed.

"I await your command, Cap'n," Errol gasped bravely, staring adamantly at James. The captain looked utterly gobsmacked. He nodded, after a bit, seeming truly impressed by Errol's determination.

"Al_right_." He grinned. "Let's get on that pitch!"

The three boys mounted their brooms (Errol rather shakily) and ascended into the air, headed for the centre of the pitch.

Charlie stared after them, and then remembered. "Wait –!"

Only Sirius slowed. He looked over his shoulder at her, his dark, inky curls being buffeted by the wind, churned by the airborne Gryffindors.

"What?"

Charlie's shoulders sagged. "Do you even know what Hula hoops _are?"_ she called.

With the sky rapidly darkening behind him it was hard to tell, but Charlie thought he winked.

"Minor details, Charl! Minor details!"

* * *

><p>AN: Hi everyone! I just thought I'd let you all know that I've actually been working on this story for quite a while, and I have in fact already finished writing it. So updates will be regular! Also, in saying that, it doesn't mean I'm not open to your thoughts, ideas or suggestions. I'm sure you hear/read it all the time, but I do value your comments more than you can imagine!

Please do let me know how you're feeling with the story so far - do you like Charlie? Is she an interesting OC, or do you find her to be hard to relate to, unrealistic or without substance? Just another Mary-Sue?

Any other comments (favourite line, a phrase you thought came out awkward or didn't quite like, or just general musings...) would be appreciated most fervently! (I'm talking fist-pumping, silent screaming - silent because my neighbours are elderly, hand flailing, the whole kit and kaboodle)

I love you all for reading even this far - and I'm sorry for the teaser of a first chapter, I just thought people should know what they're getting into,

- the punchline.


	3. Drew Needs a Hand

**Chapter Three - Drew Needs a Hand:**

_IN THE LAST WEEK OF SEPTEMBER – THE PLANNING:_

From his seat at the front of the Great Hall, Headmaster Dumbledore gazed over his half-moon spectacles with barely hidden delight at the Gryffindor table. The seventh year boys were sitting apart from the rest of the house, huddled in the middle of the table holding what appeared to be a very heated debate. Faces were going maroon, collars were being pulled to keep one another on their behinds, and soup spoons were being brandished threateningly.

A cheeky grin caught Dumbledore's eye, and his interested gaze flicked roughly five feet down the table to the two girls who were regarding the boys with the same light to their expression as Dumbledore suspected there was to his own. A lithe looking girl with short black hair and delicate, child-like features giggled and signalled for her partner to move towards the group of boys. The other girl, this one taller with wide eyes, a full fringe over her forehead and long waves of brown hair, shuffled very subtly over an inch. Dumbledore's lips quirked. He leaned back against his chair and brought his fingers up to tap his chin as he watched.

The girl hopped over another scant inch, and then another. As soon as her bottom had executed its fourth shuffle, the boys froze and turned their faces upwards, alert. The whole display much resembled a pack of wolves, the headmaster reflected merrily, looking at one boy with particular irony. Remus Lupin was the first to break his tense position to lock gazes with the brunette – Miss Frazier, if Dumbledore remembered correctly.

"SECURITY BREACH!" roared Sirius Black, leaping up to extend an accusatory finger at the two girls, who had dissolved into peals of laughter. The entire group of senior Gryffindor males scurried about like disorientated rabbits, pushing things into their pockets and folding parchments into miniscule squares. Except Mr Pettigrew, Dumbledore observed. Peter just kept eating.

"They're up to something," Minerva McGonagall murmured to Dumbledore, voicing his thoughts in a less amused fashion.

Selwyn Ackerley had now joined Sirius Black as they shooed the girls back their four inches.

"Five feet!" bellowed James from behind them, his voice resounding throughout the hall. "Trespassers _will_ be prosecuted!"

The girls, now in hysterics, held up their hands and backed away. Wiping tears from their eyes, they stood, causing all five boys to shrink back and clutch their pockets on instinct. This only brought on another round of laughter. The boys eyed the two with exaggerated wariness, moving as far away as the table would let them as the witches skipped around them confidently and out the Great Hall.

"Yes," mused Dumbledore. "And what a welcome surprise it will be once revealed."

* * *

><p><em>IN THE FIRST WEEK OF OCTOBER – PHASE ONE:<em>

"So – wait a minute, wait a minute... so, goblin earwax _doesn't _have the same magical properties as gnome?"

"No, Selwyn."

"And that's why my cauldron melted?"

"Yes, Selwyn."

"BUT JAMES TOLD ME –"

"Oi, put a sock in it will you?" Sirius hissed from where he sat slumped in an armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room. "I'm trying to concentrate, here." He held a small golden timepiece on a chain and was staring at it with maximum absorption.

Charlie crawled over to Sirius and crossed her arms over that of the over-stuffed seat. He barely even glanced at her. Peering over his broad shoulder, Charlie cooed, "What'cha _doooing?" _

"None of your business, little Miss Sane-Not-Chicken," muttered Sirius almost absently. Selwyn and Charlie shared a smile behind his back.

"That's a nice timepiece you got there," Charlie continued relentlessly.

"...Mhmm. Don't disturb me, Charlie dearest."

"Is it going to do an interesting trick?"

"No."

"Well then why are you staring at it like that? You could come back in two hours and it will still be ticking away in much the same fash –"

"JAMES!" Sirius suddenly bellowed, sitting up straight. "GO TIME."

Charlie fell back as Sirius exploded out of his seat. James came thundering down the stairs, stuffing a piece of old parchment into his robe and pulling a bag over his shoulder. Remus followed not a second later in the same dishevelled fashion and the trio barrelled out of the portrait hole.

A moment later, Sirius was back, hauling Charlie off the floor with an amazed expression.

"I'm going to be late because of you," he told her hastily. "But Merlin, you just blew over like a leaf, didn't you?"

* * *

><p>Charlie climbed the boys' stairwell, feeling light and fairly carefree. And then Selwyn's voice reached her from the seventh year's dorm and she stiffened, all cheery emotions gone.<p>

"... old fashioned bribing etcetera, but I reckon it's a done deal."

"You_ reckon_?"

"It's finished, Remus. It's all taken care of."

"When will it come into use? The password?"

"She said this Thursday latest."

"Eeexcellent. Mr Aurnerie will never know what hit him." There was a pause, and then Remus said curiously, "I didn't know you were friendly with Ravenclaws."

Selwyn chuckled. "Oho, I am _friendly _with _plenty _of Ravenclaws. Girls – of course."

Charlie made a face and went back downstairs.

* * *

><p><em>IN THE SECOND WEEK OF OCTOBER – PHASE TWO:<em>

The friendly conversation being held in the boy's dormitory came to a sudden and violent halt when the door banged open. James waltzed into the room, flaunting two small vials of silver fluid in his hands. Charlie tilted her head for a better look, squinting her eyes and –

"You two, out."

He didn't spare a second glance at her and Mac as he pulled up a chair. The girls complied, but not before Charlie flung a nearby pillow at him, smiling angelically when he glared at her.

* * *

><p>"I'm handing out the assessed tests that you completed last week," Professor Aurnerie called from his desk up front of the Arithmancy class, levitating each student's parchments to their desks. He was a tall, thin man who showed an obvious liking for tweed coats and shiny shoes. Aurnerie had very dark eyes and a strong, straight nose that protruded from a face of dark brown hair, an asset that flourished more on his face than it did on his balding head. He wasn't a very attractive man, but this did nothing to dampen his arrogant streak.<p>

When James' test arrived, Charlie, who was seated beside him, doubted he even glimpsed the mark scrawled in red ink before he scrunched it up and pushed it into his book bag.

"Potter!" Aurnerie crowed from his seat. "Usually, when a student has upped his grade, by even half a mark," he told him superiorly, "I would congratulate him. But I think to congratulate you for a D would be rather cruel, would it not?"

The Slytherins in the small class sneered and snickered. Charlie glowered.

"Oh, and Potter," Aurnerie continued before the class chatter could override his voice, "and the rest of you lot should listen as well. The next test I give you will be in approximately three weeks, and I am expecting better results than this. Study hard – or I might just start handing out detentions."

There was an unimpressed groan from the class.

"Can he do that?" Charlie heard Leonie Franks whisper from the row behind, sounding outraged.

"The toerag will do whatever he wants." This was Sara Cunningham. "Who's gonna stop him?"

"In November, sir?" James asked loudly, sounding far more confident than what seemed appropriate. "After Halloween?"

Aurnerie looked at him in disdain. "For goodness sake, Potter. If the maths is too hard to do in your head, you might as well use your fingers." Laughter filled the classroom.

Out the corner of her eye, Charlie saw James' fist tighten. She touched his arm. "Stop it," she whispered. "You'll get your own."

He smirked bitterly. "Yeah. Come Halloween, I'll be the one laughing."

And for once, Charlie didn't feel any disapproval.

* * *

><p>She pushed the dormitory door open, her hands full of borrowed scrolls from the library.<p>

"... definitely up to something, don't you –"

The conversation in the room quietened abruptly. Charlie hurried across the room to her bed, aware that the three Gryffindor girls were eying her cautiously. She dumped the scrolls on the bed.

"YES. SO."

Leonie Franks could have quite possibly been the most unsubtle person Charlie had ever come across.

She shot them all a stiff but genuine smile before drawing the curtains of her four-poster – but not before noticing that the three of them lay spread across Sara's bed, surrounded by Witch Weekly's and beauty products.

Charlie tried to ignore the detached but familiar sense that she was a foreigner in her own dormitory.

* * *

><p>Having woken early, Charlie knew she would be one of very few people down in the Great Hall for breakfast. Nevertheless, she was feeling chipper and started whistling as she jogged lightly down a flight of marble stairs. Of course, just to spit in the face of her rare morning joy, the staircase unhinged itself at once and creakily swung to the right.<p>

Charlie sighed and waited for it to re-root itself before jogging down to the new floor and looking around to gain her bearings. She was in the corridor of the staff room, she realised. A lot of professors had their quarters here as well. She began walking in the direction of the Great Hall, even though it was a floor or two below, and had barely walked a dozen feet when a pair of hands reached out from behind a tapestry and yanked her in.

"What are you guys _doing_?" she squawked, glaring at first Selwyn, who had pulled her into the small nook, and then Remus and Sirius, who had managed to pack their bodies in as well. Together, the four of them resembled the contents of a tin of tuna.

Immediately, the three boys hushed her, Selwyn going as far as to slap a large hand over her mouth. Charlie glared and struggled, only to quieten as Remus wriggled to the front of the tapestry and peered out. His eyebrows were drawn in absolute attentiveness, so much so that, coupled with the dark, alert atmosphere behind the tapestry, Charlie's heart quickened with a slight thrill of adventure.

As Selwyn's hand slipped from her lips, she whispered, "What's going on?"

But they hadn't even opened their mouths to answer when she heard a nearby door bang open and a strangled yell was released into the hallway. Eyes wide, she edged closer to Remus. Since she was smaller, he let her move to the front and as Selwyn and Sirius also wriggled closer, the four of them peered with bated breath at the scene that was unfolding before the tapestry.

It was Professor Aurnerie. Having leapt out of his own quarters, he slammed shut the door and pressed his back against it, panting. He was dressed in ugly maroon pyjamas.

"Third time this week," he muttered, eyes darting everywhere in a panic. "S'not natural, can't be –"

He clenched his fists, and after a word of encouragement to himself, slowly cracked open his door only to slam it closed once more, face paler than before. Clammy with sweat, his mouth opened and closed several times before emitting the weak words; "Prune juice dance."

Another quick word of motivation, a deep, steadying breath and he wrenched the door open once more. A relieved sigh escaped his chapped lips at whatever he saw within – or whatever he didn't see – and he shakily stepped inside once more, muttering, "Pull yourself together, Edmund."

The hallway was silent once more. Astonished and completely and shamefully intrigued, Charlie turned to Remus with wide eyes.

"Yes, Charlie," he nodded solemnly, face shadowed behind the tapestry. "It has begun."

* * *

><p><em>IN THE THIRD WEEK OF OCTOBER – WHAT WAS BELIEVED TO BE PHASE THREE:<em>

"Oh. My God." Leonie leapt off her bed in a surprisingly fluid motion and hurtled past Charlie's to the window. "Is that – _no." _

Charlie rose and went to see what had engrossed the usually reserved girl. Her head had to crane around Leonie's head of curls, and her eyes squinted in the darkness beyond the window.

"What is it?" she asked, just as Lily and Sara came over to peer as well.

"Wait a second – could you turn that light off, Sara?"

Sara moved to blow out the lamp on her bedside table and the glare against the glass panes faded. All four girls stared at the tower that rose before them, and the small moving patches that scaled its walls.

Charlie gaped. "No. Way."

Five boys – who _should _have been in their dormitory – were scaling the tower with large circular rings slung over their shoulders.

Lily gasped. "Are those –"

"Hula hoops?" Charlie finished dryly. "Yes."

* * *

><p>Aurnerie's 'nightmares' were getting worse. Twice to breakfast, the professor staggered in late, looking dishevelled and sleep deprived. One morning, he made a similar entrance to Arithmancy class.<p>

The students were quiet as they watched the characteristically conceited professor make his way to the front of the class, his usual superior stride whittled away to something like a limp.

"Class," the balding man heaved as he shakily arranged his papers and writing utencils, "there is no worse a ghost than one's past."

* * *

><p><em>IN THE LAST WEEK OF OCTOBER – THE FINAL PREPARATIONS:<em>

"Hi Charlie."

Charlie looked up. She was relaxing on a rock by the Black Lake, watching the Giant Squid delicately poke its tentacles through the surface of the water. It was a tad chilly and the wind whipped her hair about her face beneath the beret.

"Hey, Rurik."

As usual, there was a brief moment during which Charlie couldn't do much more than notice his absolute beauty. Contrary to her former no-swooning stance when it came to boys, Charlie had come to accept these moments of pure admiration with Rurik, since, as opposed as she was to them, his attractive splendour was simply undeniable. In that brief half-second she took in everything; how the collar of his dark pea coat, pulled up against the wind, framed his cold-bitten, contrastingly white face perfectly... and how, set against that pale skin, his breathtaking blue eyes were even more piercing as they regarded her.

Oh, the things she would do to him...

The moment over, she smiled and patted the stone next to her.

"Care to join?"

"It would be my honour." Rurik sat, revealing the gaggle of girls that had followed him outside. There they were, holding down their skirts and hats and gazing after Rurik as if he were a land they'd been exiled from.

He sat close enough that their shoulders touched and Charlie was glad for the protection against the winds buffeting at least one side.

"It's cold, isn't it?" Rurik said.

"Not really," replied Charlie without hesitation, because it wasn't. Not anymore.

Even gawking, Rurik was beautiful. He opened his mouth to say something – most likely to accuse her of a mental illness –when a particularly strong, icy wind hit them at gale force. They both gasped and a high-pitched screeching noise split the air as the giant squid hurriedly pulled its tentacles back into the water. This would have been rather comical had the movement of the colossal creature not caused a large tidal wave (or if you were to ask a Rurik Groupie, they would have told you it was a tsunami), that drenched everything within 12 feet of the tide line – including Charlie and Rurik.

Charlie squeaked as the water seeped through her clothing, but it was drowned out as the Rurik Groupie's all screamed and ran for the castle, forgetting that they were leaving their Prince Charming in the hands of another woman.

"O-okay," Charlie chattered, ignoring the squealing girls. Every bone in her body was shaking with cold. "Now, it's freezing_."_

If Charlie didn't know any better, she would've thought Rurik's teeth were chattering like something out of Zonko's, but by now she recognised the husky little chuckle as his modest laugh. It was a very different laugh to the ones Charlie was used to hearing; the loud, uninhibited guffaws of the Marauders, but it was madly contagious. In a matter of seconds, she too was laughing, and the two of them clutched each other in mirth.

"... don't think he's all too keen on the idea."

Settling down, Charlie looked up at the sound of Remus' voice and spotted him, along with James, Sirius, Peter and Selwyn stomping up from the shore of the lake. They looked, if possible, wetter than herself.

"It was still rude of him to flood us just 'cause we bloody _suggested_ it," said Pete as he furiously rubbed at his arms.

'It's alright, boys. He was only our backup remember? We don't need him."

"Hey look, it's Charlie!" James waved at her. "CHARLIE!"

She could only stare at them in shock. What in the name of Merlin would require the Giant Squid as a _backup plan_?

"And look! Who's that she's with, d'you reckon?"

"It's that Russian bloke." Now Sirius was peering at them suspiciously. "What are they doing?"

"Getting pretty cosy if you ask me... GET IN THERE, CHARLIE!"

Charlie was beet red.

"For the love of _Gryffindor,_" she whispered in horror. Rurik was chuckling beside her.

"Your friends are funny," he told her in amusement.

"My friends are _stupid." _

* * *

><p>Sitting in an unusually quiet Arithmancy lesson, James suddenly straightened and raised his hand into the air. A tired looking Aurnerie glared at him before muttering, "What is it, Potter?"<p>

Quite clearly, James stated, "Prune juice dance."

Aurnerie's great beard trembled. His eyes widened and very quickly, they swept the room with a considerable amount of paranoia.

"What did you say?"

James didn't even bat an eyelid. Innocently and convincingly, he repeated himself.

"I said Drew needs a hand." He pointed to Drew Hemsworth in the back row.

* * *

><p><em>HALLOWEEN MORNING:<em>

Charlie was leaving the Common Room for breakfast when Sirius strode up beside her and genially slung an arm across her shoulders.

"You off to brekkie, Charlie?" he asked with an untrustworthy amount of cheer to his voice.

"Yeess," she replied, shooting him a wary side-long glance.

"Well let me join you. I have a good feeling about this morning!"

* * *

><p>"Ohmygod!" Charlie gasped for air as she stumbled into the Entrance Hall less than half an hour later, clutching her stomach and leaning on Selwyn for support as her eyes sought out Professor Aurnerie. The prune-juice dancing, hula-hooping using ghosts of his scarred childhood had finally made a public appearance – sending him screeching obscenities as he ran in this same direction.<p>

Behind her, the Great Hall was still in an uproar. Students were shouting in amazement and hilarity, more of them abandoning their breakfasts to mill into the Entrance Hall, eager for the entertainment to continue.

But when it became obvious that Aurnerie had successfully fled, they, like Charlie, were more than content to turn to each other and enthuse.

"That was hilarious!" she laughed. "_Cruel,"_ she glared at the boys who grinned back shamelessly, "but hilarious."

"You know what the best part was?" Mac giggled, her small cheeks brightly flushed. "When McGonagall spewed out her drink –"

"All over Jutterby's hair!"

"And it got so wet!"

"The wig just slipped right off!"

The whole group stopped in the hallway as they collapsed into fits of laughter.

"And the projection? On the wall! _Genius!_"

"And when Aurnerie started blubbering –"

Immediately, James adopted the professor's trembling expression and stammered, "No – get away from me! – I told you I can't dance... I tried my best, _please_!"

"As if he thought those cute little things would actually hurt him! ..."

"Must've been a pretty messed up childhood, eh?" Sirius grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

James moaned, from where he sat on the ground, propped against the wall as he clutched a stitch in his side. He grinned. "I'd like to see Aurnerie come out of that with half the ego he used to walk around with!"

"Wait a minute," Charlie glanced around as the others happily agreed. "Where's Pete?"

She surveyed the teenagers around her; James on the floor; Sirius sprawled against a set of armour for support, looking as if he were in an awkward embrace with the metal figure; Max doubled over, hands on her knees; Remus leaning against a wall looking very pleased; and Selwyn, standing next to Charlie with a sorrowful expression on his boyish features.

"Ah, Pete," he murmured, shaking his head mournfully. "A brave man."

"A brave man," echoed the boys, elatdeness gone for the moment.

"What did you make him do this time?" Mac demanded.

"He volunteered, I swear!" James held up his hands in innocence.

"Volunteered to do what?"

James hesitated before he spoke. "Pete volunteered to be our... our suicide prankster."

"_SUICIDE?"_

All the boys looked uncomfortable.

"Errm..."

"Huhuh..."

"More... _sacrificial."_ Remus said in what he might have meant to be an assuring tone.

"SACRIFICIAL?"

"There were certain... _sections _of the prank which could not be successful without one being revealed. Pete offered to sacrifice himself."

"You don't mean...?" Mac was horrified.

"That would be two months weekend detentions with McGonagall," Sirius stated grimly and this time they all joined in as he toasted, "A brave man."

Quite suddenly, the crowd behind the students parted and a load gasp shushed the hall into silence, but for the uneven shuffles of someone's shoes against the stone floor.

Professor Aurnerie emerged limping from the crowd, missing one shoe and all his dignity. The man's long face was set as he dragged himself wordlessly back into the Great Hall.

Contrary to the violent fury that many of the students were expecting from the former menace, he seemed only to have the willpower to mutter, in a tense, quivering voice, "Move aside."

He repeated the words as a mantra ("Move. Move aside. Move. Move. Move aside.") though it was completely unnecessary. Although a small, shocked smirk still lingered on their lips as they did, students hurried to make way for the disturbed professor, eying him as he might spontaneously combust.

Charlie and her friends watched with anticipation as Aurnerie finally came face to face with Professor Dumbledore, who had calmly also made his way into the Entrance Hall, flanked by McGonagall and other staff members.

"Headmaster," said Aurnerie tensely, though kudos to him for managing to jut his chin out so firmly. "You may have noticed; this castle is haunting me. I can no longer reside here."

Dumbledore seemed completely unfazed. Almost boredly, he said, "But surely, Edmund, you do not mean...?"

Aurnerie's great beard twitched and trembled. "I do," he said, his voice strangled. "I have prepared a letter of resignation..."

"Just then?" said Professor Dumbledore as Aurnerie rummaged about the inside pocket of his robe, sounding impressed.

"Yes," answered Aurnerie stiffly and Charlie had to stifle a snicker as he produced a very crumpled scrap of parchment. Written clearly in large, shaky scrawl were two words: "I RESIGN."

There was a moment of complete silence as the Headmaster accepted Aurnerie's 'letter'.

And then James Potter let out an absolute roar of triumph, and every student in the hall burst into whoops and cheers.

* * *

><p>AN: What did you think? I had a lot of difficulty with this chapter, and I'm still a bit anxious about it. How did you like the structure? Would you have preferred the chapter, the prank itself, to be not so veiled and mysterious? Personally, I like the idea of not knowing because, come on, they're the Marauders - _no one _knows!

But anyway, I love to here from you all!

Thank you for reading - and thank you so much to all who have reviewed so far, I've tried to answer any queries. I hope you're all enjoying it,

- the punchline. :)


	4. Do Not Be Afraid to Throw Rice

**Chapter Four – Do Not Be Afraid to Throw Rice:**

"...And so, Professor Aurnerie has resigned from his post as Arithmancy professor. He will continue teaching for the next two weeks, after which his position will be filled by Professor Septima Vector, a worthy replacement I'm sure..."

It was the Monday after the Halloween weekend, but the school was still abuzz from the events of that unforgettable breakfast. As word of Pete's two-month detention sentence had gotten out, many had deduced that the hilarious display of Aurnerie's own feared childhood was in fact a well-schemed ploy that could only be the brainchild of the Marauders.

In response, the boys were being worshipped. Applause followed them in and out of every room. The more appreciative jokesters of younger year levels swept into bows as they passed. Everywhere he went, James was hailed as the best Head Boy Hogwarts had ever seen. A man who "upheld the true interests and wellbeing of the student population", and he couldn't be more arrogant for it. Charlie hadn't heard more "I told you so"s in a single weekend.

Only Aurnerie didn't believe that the debacle was of the Gryffindor boys' misdemeanour. He remained adamant that he was being haunted by merciless, Peeves-like figures of his past who took delight in his torture. He also remained adamant that the nightmares and haunting would not rest unless he left Hogwarts all together. He seemed to believe it was James' own arrogance that led him to give him and his friends up as the instigators of the trouble, and refused to acknowledge it as a possible truth. And no one really bothered themselves with trying to convince him otherwise.

In response to Headmaster Dumbledore's announcement that breakfast, James screwed up his face.

"Two whole weeks?" he said, sounding thoroughly disappointed. "I was hoping he'd be gone by _yesterday_."

"That _is _a let down," agreed Remus with only a hint of sarcasm. Aurnerie's resignation had been more than the boys had hoped for, but only James acted as if his continuing presence was an injustice.

"Give the man a break," said Sirius from beside James. "Poor bloke thinks hula-hooping, prune-juice dancing demons just ended his teaching career. Least we can do is give him a couple of weeks and a bed to sleep in while he tries to rebuild his life."

"Yeeaah," insisted James and then lowered his voice, "But what if in that couple of weeks he comes to his senses, eh? We don't have anything else planned! He'll spend the rest of his time here in peace – what if he decides he doesn't have to leave after all?"

"Relax," said Sirius in the same low tone. "Remus and I have got it covered." He leant closer as he muttered his explanation, but Charlie still managed to catch enough words to gather that they'd planted more than one baby boggart in Aurnerie's quarters.

"It's brilliant really," muttered Sirius. "They'll mature at different times; Aurnerie will discover them at different times... Flawless!"

From across the table, Charlie frowned and asked loudly, "Where did you get a boggart from?"

Sirius jumped and James muttered side-long, "Really gotta work on your inconspicuousness, mate."

"Wouldn't you like to know," said Sirius to Charlie.

Charlie glared and opened her mouth to demand knowledge (she didn't doubt that it wouldn't be hard to find a boggart in the Forbidden Forest, but when could the boys have had time to do _that_?) when –

"Oi!"

The group looked up the table to where Lily was glaring at them reproachfully. "Will you lot put a sock in it?" She turned to Charlie excitedly. "Dumbledore's speech just got interesting."

Confused as to why this concerned her in particular, Charlie returned her attention to the podium where Dumbledore was addressing the Great Hall with a twinkle to his eye. She noticed that the female population of the crowd was gazing at the Headmaster, rapt as if he were announcing a school dance.

"... to celebrate the years that Professor Aurnerie has spent at our humble castle, spreading his knowledge of Arithmancy with admiral dedication. The ball will be held on his last night, two weeks from now. All students are invited to attend, and to accommodate for the late notice a Hogsmeade trip will be arranged this weekend for all to purchase appropriate robes etcetera..."

Charlie was speechless. The boys were looking quite displeased by the new development, and grumbled among themselves about preference to girls – how about an intra-school Tri-Wizard Tournament instead?

"Oh come on," said Mac. "It could be exciting! We've never had a ball before. James – you could ask –"

But James was once step ahead.

"Hey Evans!"

Lily, probably already having anticipated James' call, turned to him with a look of complete discouragement.

"Don't do it," she warned.

James beamed. "_So_?" he said suggestively.

"_Potter_," she said admonishingly. He ignored her.

"What do you thiiiink?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Don't even –"

"Do you want to go with me?" He grinned madly and nodded, eyebrows high and eyes large in motivation.

He looked like a fool. It was no surprise Lily dropped a very blunt, "No."

"Hup!" Having ignored her rejection, James clutched at his heart and looked as if he were about to burst into tears of ecstasy. "Mine and Lily's first date, friends!"

He gave them all a big, watery smile, spreading his arms wide as if this moment were a gift from God.

"Thought the day would never come, didn't you? Well, adorn the date in your diaries, kids! Circle it on next year's calendar! Next time you see us together, do not be afraid to throw rice! We'll be making babies by next fall, rest assured!"

* * *

><p>"So, you boys going to watch the Quidditch match tomorrow? First game of the season you know."<p>

They were sitting in their Friday Charms class and after Errol confessed to a disconcerting fungus on his big toe and turned the conversation cold, Charlie tried her best to keep her tone away from being awkward. Turned out she did worse than bring discomfort onto the conversation, as a glance in Errol's direction saw his expression drop dramatically. Much to his disappointment, the skinny boy hadn't made the Gryffindor team and Charlie had had to ask James to make up any other plausible excuse to let him down easy rather than the harsh truth; "Your flying skills are ghastly."

Charlie bit her lip regretfully at the sight of his downcast face, but stayed silent.

"I was going to try out for Ravenclaw's team," Rurik mused unhelpfully. "I played back at Durmstrang, you know."

"So you're coming?" she asked.

Rurik shrugged. "Sure. Do you think I would be allowed to come and sit with you?"

Charlie blushed at once. "Allowed?"

"Yes. At Durmstrang, you could get several injuries from all kinds of make-shift projectiles just for sitting amidst a crowd who support a team other than yours."

"Oh," said Charlie. "Well no, that won't happen. After all, we're playing Slytherin so there won't be much opposition for a Ravenclaw. Unless, you're rooting for Slytherin?" Charlie stared at Rurik almost fearfully. He smiled, making her feel inescapably light-headed.

"No," he laughed. "I will support your house."

She smiled, wishing not for the first time that Errol wasn't situated rather obliviously between them.

The next morning, Charlie scampered down to the changing rooms after breakfast to wish the team good luck. She was running late, as Errol had insisted on paying her a compliment for her hair – which took about eight and a half minutes for him to stutter out. Eventually, she'd had to act very flattered upon being informed that her hair looked 'very brushed' beneath her red and gold beanie and showered him with thanks and praise before excusing herself.

In the distance, a whistle blew to signal the ten minutes before the match began. The sound of the school going crazy in the stands echoed through the halls, and Charlie could imagine the kind of banners being waved and the chants being yelled ecstatically about the pitch.

Spurred by the uproar, she hurried along the hallway of the changing rooms until she reached a wooden door that read GRYFFINDOR and rapped on it impatiently.

"Oi!" she called. "Didn't you hear that whistle?"

Not a second passed before the door was wrenched open and none other than James Potter stepped out, looking very smug. Once she'd flapped her hands around enough to scatter the tendrils of teenage stink that escaped the changing room alongside James, Charlie looked him up and down drily.

"Nice badge," she observed, raising her eyebrows in a sarcastic manner. The polished-until-blinding, GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN engraved red brooch was pinned perfectly straight on his puffed out chest, just as it had been the past two years of his captaincy.

"Thank you," he quipped imperiously.

Silence.

"Finished giving your First Match of the Season speech?"

"Sure diddly have."

"Did you use the line?"

"Yeah I did Charl, thanks for that, worked a treat."

One glance at each other, and the two of them bellowed in a grand, trembling baritone: "IIII HAVE A DREEAM."

After snickering together, Charlie sighed, "I should've gotten you a recording."

"Mm," said James, leaning against the door, "I'd've appreciated that."

Suddenly, the door was pulled inwards and open, leaving James with nothing to lean against. With a yelp, he stumbled backwards, only to rebound off Selwyn and land without grace on the floor at Charlie's feet. Selwyn, geared up and smelling strongly of heavy duty deodorant (which did very little to over-power the BO that had flowed out of the changing room), stepped over James without a second glance.

"Knew he couldn't've come up with that speech on his own," he muttered.

"We practiced _six times_," confessed Charlie in a stage whisper.

"It was very inspirational," said Deanna Andromeda, a sixth year chaser, also stepping over her captain as she followed Selwyn out of the changing room with a teasing grin, "Well done, Charlie."

"Never felt more motivated in my life," agreed Sirius, easily manoeuvring around his best friend. "Thanks, Charl."

"Let's not forget who delivered the speech!" snapped James as he rose, dusting his robes, straightening his glasses and repolishing his badge furiously.

"That would be a Muggle named Martin Luther King Junior," Charlie informed them all knowledgably.

James' expression turned sour.

"You're not even part of the team," he muttered childishly and Charlie's mouth dropped open in affront.

The rest of the players (Mac, Phil Spinnet and Heather O'Connor) emerged from the changing room and after Charlie reminded him once more of the whistle, James nose-dived into his Captaincy. An encouraging (coughthreateningcough) pep talk began spilling out of his mouth as the team collected their broomsticks and continued as he lead the way in a brisk walk towards the gates.

As Charlie fell into step beside Selwyn, she nudged him with a knowing grin.

"How're you holding up?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he avoided her gaze. But his pretence was blown, as Phil Spinnet had overheard and the fifth year chaser dropped back with a grin.

"Not well," Phil told Charlie. "Took a good bludger round the head to get him to take his eyes off her last practice."

"No!" gasped Charlie, turning to Selwyn with a scandalised grin. Her poor friend had been quite taken with Deanna Andromeda ever since she joined the team two years ago. She didn't blame him; with her dark hair, wide eyes and _fit_ body – the chaser was quite the beauty. Not to mention a personality as sweet as Honeydukes.

As Phil tsked, Charlie also shook her head. "Better get your act together, Ackerley," she warned, though in reality she had no doubt that once Selwyn was on that pitch, there was no questioning his mentality and performance.

Charlie was delighted to see, however, that Selwyn was blushing. "She's purty," he whined.

They were nearing the gates now and Charlie slowed, calling out her last good-lucks as the team adopted their game faces and moved into position.

As he was passing, Sirius tapped his cheek.

"Come on, Frazier," he said impatiently. "We haven't got time for your denial."

Charlie fought the urge to stomp her foot. "It's _not _a before-the-game ritual!"

"Yes it _is_," called James from the front of the group, and the rest of the team also voiced their assertion. "Is it your _intention _to sabotage this team?"

Defeated (as always), Charlie sighed and stepped forward to press her lips to Sirius' cheek in the Before the Game Good-luck Kiss. The entire team 'aww'ed and when she pulled back, Sirius was as smug as the cat who ate the budgie.

"Finish it off," he coaxed.

Scowling, Charlie grumbled reluctantly, "Good luck Sirius, I hope your game goes well."

The team gave a light, half-hearted cheer and with a wink, Sirius moved into his position.

"You need to shave!" called Charlie, but at the moment Eric Jordan's voice boomed a flattering introduction over the commentary, and the gates opened.

The bright light from outside poured in and Charlie shielded her eyes as she proudly watched her favourite team stride onto the pitch, broomsticks raised and basking in the thunderous applause of their supporters. This, by far, was her favourite moment of every match.

When Charlie reached the top of the Gryffindor stands, she spotted Rurik sitting on the very front bench, talking politely with Leonie Franks. It surprised Charlie that they seemed to be getting along so well, considering Leonie was so shy. Just as she watched, Rurik chuckled at something she'd said in her soft voice and Leonie's cheeks lit up a gentle pink.

Leonie was renowned for her easily provoked blushes. Charlie knew that sometimes the boys would say something vulgar or crude just for the pleasure of watching her small, round cheeks flush a brilliant red.

Leonie spotted Charlie over Rurik's shoulder and shyly pointed her out after waving. Charlie waved back and hurried over.

"I'm so excited," she breathed happily as she settled in her seat beside Rurik. She watched her own misty breath curl and unfurl in the frosty November air. "First game of the season!"

Rurik smiled softly and then leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Charlie resisted the urge to pull back, and glanced up at him furtively, hoping he wouldn't hear her heart speed up. His face was very close. Charlie could see the dark stubble forming on his square jaw and angular cheeks, and noticed how his long lashes curled up, framing perfectly his warm eyes. She could hardly think. He gazed down at her, thoughtful.

"Charlie?"

"...Yes?"

Madame Hooch blew her whistle, piercing the mass cheers along with what Charlie suspected had been a bit of a 'moment' with Rurik. Her face snapped towards the pitch and for a second, she was filled with thrill as she watched the Slytherin and Gryffindor players zoom out either direction as the Quaffle was thrown into their midst. Charlie glanced back at Rurik who, still inches away from her, was watching the game as well. She bit her lip, wanted to say something – perhaps, "Maybe later?" – but only shook her head and turned back to the game.

One hour in, and Charlie was out of her seat, banging against the railing and pulling at her beanie in frustration. Lily Evans had thrown her binoculars at a Slytherin Chaser as he'd flown past and was still ducking behind Sara Cunningham every time he came within five yards lest he identify her. Gryffindor were on eighty points and Slytherin ninety – was it any wonder that even Leonie had found her Quidditch voice and was screaming obscenities along with everyone else?

"WE NEED THE SNITCH POTTER!" screamed Lily, almost jumping right out of the Gryffindor viewing tower. "GET IT – AAAH, MERLIN!" She dropped to the ground, screaming crazily as Corey Hunter, sporting a large bruise above his left eye courtesy of Miss Evans' binoculars, sped past. She popped up, high on the exhilaration of Quidditch, and waved her scarf (which she'd removed in fear that Hunter would somehow grab onto it and fly away, leaving her dangling like a lynched criminal) in the air proudly. "YOU MISSED ME YOU WANKER! YOO-HOO! OVER HERE YOU ARROGANT PR – GAH!"

Something small, golden and buzzing flew straight into Lily's flailing scarf. The snitch flitted about crazily, trying to untangle itself.

"Oh," gasped Lily, reaching for it. "Oh, goodness, somebody – help –"

"OVER HEEEREE JAMES!" roared Peter. "THE SNIIITCH! OVER HEEREE!"

"Blimey Pete, priorities!" snapped Lily, panic starting to rise in her voice as it became clear that one of the snitch's teeny tiny wings had gotten caught on one of the tousles of her scarf. It flitted around Lily's body, flustered, trailing the scarf about so that it rather resembled a tentacle of the Giant Squid's. Charlie snatched at it, trying to catch the lightning fast little bugger, but failing miserably.

The snitch went around and around, wrapping the scarf tightly around the alarmed Lily. She toddled about, trying to untangle herself whilst slapping at the snitch like an old lady reprimanding a poor soul with her handbag. She tripped over an empty box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, but luckily Remus caught her. It should have been rather easy for the young, well-muscled teenage boy to keep hold of a temporarily uncoordinated seventeen year old girl, but the snitch began pelting itself repeatedly at his forehead. Charlie and the rest of the spectators could only follow its fast, zippy movements like tennis spectators.

As soon as Remus took his hands off Lily to defend his facial features, the snitch resumed whizzing about her body as if it were trying to start up a cyclone.

"Rurik," said Charlie desperately as Lily stumbled about the bleachers, starting to look less like a human and more like a cocooned caterpillar. "You were a seeker, weren't you?"

He nodded but just as he stepped forward to test his skills, Sara pointed and cried, "Look it's James! He'll stop it!"

And then all hell broke loose.

Lily screamed as suddenly, the golden snitch shot forward and out, onto the pitch. With surprising strength, the flying ball yanked Lily, hopelessly tangled in her long scarf, forward and she hit the railings with a cry. Charlie leaped forward just as the snitch dramatically changed direction and shot upwards. Lily screamed as the scarf tightened around her and pulled her up into the air. Charlie seized her legs and tried to hold her down, but it was no use. She felt fingers and hands grope her own feet in vain as both Lily and Charlie were lifted up into the air, swinging from the tiny, unbelievably strong snitch like screaming wind chimes.

"CHARLIE!" Lily screeched, her voice whipping about in the wind. "I DON'T THINK IT'S GOING TO HOLD!"

Charlie clutched Lily's legs for dear life, willing herself not to look down at the ground fast disappearing below them.

"WHAAT?"

"MY SCARF! IT CAN'T POSSIBLY – OHMY, I CAN FEEL IT SLI -!"

And just like that, they were falling. Lily's scarf snagged free of the snitch, leaving Charlie and Lily alone to face gravity. They dropped like rocks.

* * *

><p>AN: You like dat cliffhanger?

Hahah, thoughts?

Sorry if you're holding out for some Sirius/Charlie action, I know it's moving slowly in the romance field. But bear with me! This story is about the humour and plot as well, not just the simple fluff! I do hope you're all enjoying _The Willemina _so far, thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing: narrativegoldfish, Rebakah (I always look forward to your reviews!), The Weatherwitch, Helen, Jace and of course, my shit mate Wozzay. I'm beyond grateful for all your comments!

- the punchline.


	5. Randy Bastards, the Lot of Them

**Chapter Five – Randy Bastards, the Lot of Them:**

Charlie and Lily plummeted through the air. Their screams were snatched by the wind as they fell, their hair slapping their faces and their arms and legs flailing for a balance they'd never achieve. Charlie felt bile rise in her mouth, and swallowed hard, closing her eyes and frantically wishing for it all to just _stop_.

_Whoosh._

Another cry was ripped from her throat as a very sudden change in direction had her stomach rolling. Her lungs burned for air and she realised she'd been winded.

She gasped, clutching onto what she later identified as Sirius' arm holding her tightly around her ribs. The wind began to calm around her, and she realized it was because they were slowing down. There were two kinds of roars in her ears; one was the Hogwarts students and staff, making all kind of racket at the unexpected action sequence and the other was a dull kind of noise that filled her ears and all but blocked out the first.

Sirius' broom was hovering in the air now. She was dangling off the side like a limp rag doll, but now, with a grunt, he hitched her up to sit on the broomhandle.

"Merlin, Frazier, you alright?" he panted, sweeping hair from her face.

She didn't answer for a while, only holding on to him tightly and blinking hard. She shook her head, swallowed down yet more bile and wheezed out an affirmative.

"Are you sure?"

She shook her head. "Not really!"

"Charlie!" came an anguished cry.

Mac's broomstick had come to a halt parallel to Sirius' so suddenly that if it were a car, it would have surely screeched. In a second, the younger girl threw her arms around Charlie's neck, almost knocking Sirius out in the process, and started blabbering all kinds of concerned nonsense that Charlie hadn't the brain energy to make sense of. Eventually, Mac pulled away and Charlie came face to face with Selwyn. He took one squinty look at her dazed expression and gave a small smile.

"She'll be right," he muttered, more to Charlie than to anyone else. Charlie managed a smile in return and was grateful for Sirius' arm tightening around her waist. Swallowing and blinking hard, she looked up at her saviour. His grey eyes were worried, and there were beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face from the match.

"Woo," she said weakly, in an effort to disperse the tension. "I would so pay for another go at that."

Sirius regarded her seriously. "You're insane."

"No, I believe that would be James' long lost twin brother."

At this he cracked a smile. A small one, but it was still a smile. His grin faded as he asked, "You're not hurt?"

'Not that I can tell."

"Do you feel dizzy?"

"Sure do."

"Do you –"

"No more questions."

Sirius sighed, defeated. "Alright," he said, and began to guide the broom into a slow descent.

Charlie looked around as they sailed downwards, trying to avoid eye contact with the gaping students in the stands, opting instead to scan the sky.

"Where's Lily?" she demanded.

Sirius nodded down to where, sure enough, James was just touching down with Lily sitting in his arms. She looked flustered but more or less okay. In fact, James looked much worse than she did; he looked as if he were ready to have a heart palpitation. The two of them slid off the broom and, after Lily swayed a little, James swept her up bridal style. Much to Charlie's shock and amusement, she didn't put up any protest. The pair were swarmed at once with curious and horrified students (amongst whom were Leonie Franks, Sara Cunningham, Pete and Remus) and worried staff.

"Oh no," said Charlie unhappily. She'd always hated it when people fussed over her, and already there were students looking up at Charlie and Sirius expectedly, waiting for them to land so that they could horde around them like children attracted to a child with a new toy. Much to her horror, Charlie spotted Rurik in the crowd, gazing up at her with concern. She looked away quickly.

"BUT WHAT IS THIS?" boomed Eric Jordan quite suddenly, the student commentator from up in the staff stands. "IT WOULD APPEAR – YES – IT APPEARS THAT _JAMES POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! _SOMEWHERE IN ALL THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE OF SAVING LILY EVANS, WHO WE ALL KNOW IS JAMES POTTER'S ONE AND ONLY TRUE LOVE – YES, WHAT AN ADDITION TO THEIR ROMANTIC TALE, FOLKS - BUT SOMEHOW, MISTER POTTER HAS _CAUGHT THE SNITCH! _IT ONLY MEANS ONE THING MY FRIENDS! INTERRUPTANCE OR NOT, WOMEN FALLING TO THEIR DEATHS OR NOT, THE RULES ARE THE RULES! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, TEACHERS AND STUDENTS, _GRYFFINDOR WINS!" _

Shouts of delight and dismay filled the air and hats were thrown up all around Sirius and Charlie, who laughed and hooted happily. Down below, James, whose hands were a bit full, had given Lily the snitch to brandish. His triumphant grin was even matched by the redhead.

Charlie looked up at Sirius, a wide grin stretching across her face. His eyes twinkled with victory, cheeks red with joy.

"I think we should definitely make that good luck kiss thing a before-the-game ritual," she decided cheekily.

Sirius grinned. "You reckon?"

* * *

><p>That night the Gryffindor Common room was in celebration. The victory against Slytherin and the rescuing of two damsels in distress had only added to James and Sirius' already heightened popularity. James, their prized seeker and captain, hadn't had a second to himself, what with congratulations, thanks and praise being showered upon him by fellow Gryffindors.<p>

"Honestly," grumbled Selwyn as the group watched a trio of fifth years toast their somehow acquired butterbeers in the name of Potter. "You'd think the whole team was made up of him alone."

At this, Remus and Charlie clinked their own bottles together and chorused proudly, "To Ackerley!"

And then, at the protest of Mac; "The Ackerleys!"

"He's not humble at all, is he?" tutted Mac as they watched James clasp one of the fifth years paternally on the back and say (not quietly), "Isn't that cute! Well son, it's not easy being as good as I am. You gotta practice every day, I tell you – gross _and _fine motor skills! These fingers?" he wiggled the mentioned extremities in the boy's face and stage-whispered, "trained like a _surgeon's_."

"Humble?" snorted Charlie. "The boy's got an ego bigger than his own head!"

"Bigger than the pitch he plays on," corrected Lily Evans. She'd come up to the hearth where the group sat and now gave Charlie a small and what might have been tentative smile.

"Charlie, can we talk to you?"

Behind her, Sara and Leonie were also watching Charlie expectantly. Her gaze flitted between the three pretty faces, feeling as if she'd done something wrong.

"Uh – sure."

Pete's highly immature, forewarning "ooooooooh" did not help as she stood up and awkwardly followed the girls to the corner of the Common Room, where their three usual chairs were set up around a small round coffee table. Thankfully, none of them sat down.

"What's up?" asked Charlie with fake perk. Honestly, she felt more than a bit anxious – and suspicious. She barely had public conversations with the three girls, let alone strictly private ones. Had she accidently used one of their toothbrushes? Were they casting her out of the dormitory for purely hygienic reasons?

Much to Charlie's surprise, Lily sent her a dazzlingly genuine smile.

"I never got to thank you for earlier today," she said. "You put yourself in real danger...trying to save _me_," her smile widened, her eyes kind.

Charlie felt her cheeks grow slightly hot. "Yeah," she said. "Fat load of help I was though, hey?"

As the girls laughed, Charlie continued, "I'm sure you would've done the same thing."

At this, all three faces grew, for a moment, somewhat shameful.

"That's the thing," said Sara. "We've been thinking..."

"Why aren't we friends?" asked Leonie, as if the question were truly baffling.

Charlie blinked. "We are friends."

Sara shook her head wryly. "No we're not Frazier."

Charlie was speechless. "Uh..."

It was true. They weren't friends. Not really. And truth be told, she knew no legitimate answer as to why. What she did know, however, was that eleven year old Charlie had a bowl hair cut. Eleven year old Charlie didn't know how to braid (mind you, neither did seventeen year old Charlie), she had a gap where a front tooth was still growing, knobby knees and a laugh to match – she had made instant friends with Selwyn Ackerley aboard the Hogwarts Express. Sorted into Gryffindor, she sat with Selwyn and all his funny friends and didn't even know the other girls existed until a prefect pointed her up a separate staircase to find her dormitory. The girls had beautiful hair, cute giggles and a particular fancy for kneazles. Although they seemed nice enough, they were definitely a bore compared to her own fantastic new mates. Needless to say, Charlie didn't give a flying fuck about them.

But now, the years had passed and the mass of differences that separated Charlie from the other three Gryffindor girls had lessened considerably. And that question – the question that Leonie had now finally voiced – hung so heavily between them that more often than not, Charlie simply found it easier to stay away from the dormitory and the trio rather than experience the tension that inevitably built whenever the four of them were alone in the same room – and everyone knew that Charlie was the only one who didn't quite belong.

So honestly, she answered, "I don't know."

The four of them were silent for a moment and Charlie shared a small smile with Lily before the redhead asked, "Have you got any plans for tomorrow?"

"Um, no," she admitted, still smiling slightly. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. They would have so much more room in their dormitory, what with that fat elephant finally being handed an evictee notice. She continued, "But it's that Hogsmeade trip right? So I'm sure I'll find something..."

Leonie grinned happily by Lily's side. "You're free?"

Charlie wasn't sure if that's what she'd said, but shrugged. "...Yeah, Sure!"

"Great," said Lily, and there were just smiles all around. "Listen, the girls and I were obviously planning on spending the day shopping for dress robes –"

"Oh my gosh, this is going to be so fun!" squeaked Leonie, apparently unable to control herself, and Charlie tried to match her enthusiastic expression with one of her own. She suspected she might have come across as a serial-killing clown.

"– and I was just thinking, last time I was in Hogsmeade, Lolita's had this gorgeous pink dress that would look _so _beautiful with your figure and –"

"Figure?" Charlie repeated dumbly before she could stop herself. She snorted. "I don't have a figure."

"Yes you do!" Leonie nodded excitedly. "A very nice one, actually."

"A _nice..._" Charlie blinked and said, rather hopelessly, "What?"

"Oh come off it," Sara leered, not unkindly. "You have the most beautiful torso I've ever seen."

Charlie's eyes widened and she looked obliviously down at her midriff and chest area. The other three girls also examined her body, tilting their heads this way and that as if it made a difference. After about a second, Sara reconsidered, "Alright, maybe not the _most _beautiful – your tits are fairly um, modest – but it's still rather nice."

"Right," agreed Lily. "So..." She winced slightly as if already anticipating the rejection, "Do you want to spend the day with us? It'll be fun, I promise. "

Charlie tried to contain her smile as she shyly nodded. "That would be really nice, actually."

"Great," said Lily, whose close-lipped smile was clearly also on the verge of something much larger.

Charlie laughed at the awkwardness of it all. "Great."

When she returned to the hearth, Sirius had joined the group and leant over the back of an armchair chatting easily with Pete. They both turned to her as she drew up beside him and with disbelief, Sirius demanded, "Did you just get asked out? – By three of the fittest girls in school?"

Embarrassed but pleased, Charlie rolled her eyes and explained, "Lily just wanted to thank me for my completely futile attempts at keeping her grounded today."

In less than a second, Sirius' face had split into a wide grin and he all but danced across the Common Room to where James was still condescendingly dishing out advice to younger Quidditch players. Slinging an arm around his best friend's neck, Sirius turned to where Lily, Sara and Leonie sat around their little coffee table and called jovially, "Hey Evans!"

James, perhaps anticipating the direction of conversation, went pink as Sirius dragged him into the centre of the room and crowed, for the entire house to hear, "Heard you're bestowing the thanks for your rescue earlier today – how about you send some of that gratitude our good Captain's way, hey?" He grinned mischievously as James started muttering protests in his ear, not wanting to get on Lily's bad side.

"I already said thank you," said Lily indignantly.

"Aw!" roared Sirius. "Come on, Evans – the man saved your life! Swept you into his arms in the face of death, he did! Surely you can manage a little more sugar than that?"

Hoots of agreement joined the amused snickers around the room. Lily narrowed her eyes.

"Potter is well aware of how grateful I am, Black," she said, and then admittedly jerkily, "Obviously, it was very – heroic – of him, and he _did _save my life –"

"Come _oonn_, Evans!" jeered Sirius once more. "You're taking _Frazier_ out to Hogsmeade! – And she was just the deadweight hanging of your ankles!"

Mortified, Charlie shaded her face from the leers, making embarrassed eye contact with a grinning Selwyn.

Sirius continued like an overzealous sales representative; "James here – the true man of the match – plucked your screaming self right out of the air! In _my _humble opinion, that deems somewhat of a better deal than what Charlie received!"

Lily looked as if she'd just chewed on something strongly bitter. Almost as if she had no retort for this, she silently raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes at the shouts of agreement from the inebriated Gryffindors.

Sirius took advantage of her silence and jeered, "Give him a kiss!"

"_Sorry_?"

"Snog him!" Sirius now roared, spurred on by the supportive cheers of the other Gryffindors. Charlie suspected, also, that he'd had a few bottles more butterbeer than standard.

"_No_!" cried Lily, sounding absolutely affronted, just as James was pulling out of Sirius' grip and mumbled, goodnaturedly, "Come off it mate, that's enough –"

But it was too late. Gryffindor house, eagerly embracing the idea of a public snog, had begun an exuberant chant. Sirius, with that familiar mischievous glint in his darkened eyes, was the loudest of them all, and was fist-pumping to match.

"SNOG – HIM! – SNOG – HIM! – SNOG – HIM!"

When Lily still opposed, he leaned forward and moaned, "He _saved your LIFE_, Evans!"

James, with an embarrassed grin, was trying to stifle the chant, but his efforts were in vain. If anything, they grew only more determined at his reluctance and Charlie heard Eric Jordan shout, "Three seconds, tops!" just as Selwyn sprang to his feet brandishing a knut and shouted to anyone who would listen "Two bronze ones says she won't do it!"

"I'll take that!"

With fierce determination, Lily strode forward, plucked the knut from Selwyn's raised fingers and much to the delight of the house, marched right up to James.

"Evans –" he managed to splutter before she cut him off with an exasperated, "Thank you, Potter, for saving my _bloody _life!" and, taking hold of his lapels, tugged him forward to cover his mouth with her own.

The on-looking Gryffindors erupted into crude cheers. Sirius stepped back, arms folded, and surveyed his handiwork with red-cheeked pride.

Unable to keep the amusement from her face, Charlie watched along with the rest as the shocked James cautiously lowered his hands onto Lily's hips. As the dynamic couple continued their forced liplock, Charlie noted with interest that they must've been around the three second mark by now. The cheers began to slowly hush as, no doubt, others also noticed that the kiss was growing in length. The house descended into a wary shock.

Lily and James continued snogging.

Charlie's eyebrows rose, and when she caught Sirius' equally uncomfortable expression, both their lips twitched into bemused smirks.

Suddenly, someone stammered loudly, "T-tongue! There's-tongue-I-see-tongue!"

And for a brief moment Charlie saw that the kiss had indeed deepened – before Lily abruptly extricated herself and stepped back as if electrocuted.

Gryffindor House experienced a very thick silence then, heavy with both anticipation and suspicion. James looked as if he'd descended into a shock so deep he'd never be able to speak again. His cheeks were flushed, eyes were glazed and his mouth hung open, jaw limp.

Lily wiped the corner of her own mouth, and someone awkwardly coughed from a far corner of the room. And then the redhead rounded on Sirius.

"Your turn," she said simply, her tone as authoritative as Professor McGonagall's.

Sirius' eyes widened, though given the unexpected turn of events, his lips were still twisted at the edges into a smug little smile.

"Evans, please! Control yourself. Besides, you're James' bird; I'd never do that to him."

"No," said Lily acidly, her own smirk manipulating her lips, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the bright red of her cheeks. "You saved Charlie. Now it's _your _turn to claim the '_sugar_'."

Charlie, having been quite content with her position as a detached spectator, felt her own jaw go slack at the proposition.

"Lily –" she choked, and the redhead's eyes flickered to her apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," she said wholeheartedly before turning to Sirius with a glare, "but payback's a bitch."

Charlie couldn't believe her ears – or eyes. Hadn't… hadn't Lily _just _implied some kind of desire to become friends?

All eyes were now flitting intensely between Lily, Sirius and Charlie.

If fair was fair, Charlie would have to snog Sirius just as Lily had James.

But Sirius snorted derisively. "What," he said, "have Charlie snog _me_? Not nearly as enthralling, Evans."

"I don't even fancy him like that," Charlie argued matter-of-factly.

"_I _don't even fancy _James_ like _anything_!" cried Lily.

Sirius grimaced. "And _yet_," he said, shrugging, "you _did_ snog the living daylights out of him, in front of – you may not have noticed, but – one _or two_ witnesses…"

"I don't care!" Lily suddenly screeched, sounding close to deranged as her cheeks grew a shade darker than her hair. She seemed hellbent on either redirecting the attention, gaining revenge for her own embarrassment, or both. "You saved her life! –You have to snog her!"

And then the entire house – randy bastards, the lot of them – were pumping their fists and chanting away once more.

"SNOG – HER! – SNOG – HER! – SNOG – HER!"

"Oh, this is ridiculous!' snapped Sirius, throwing his hands up as he strode over to Charlie and seized her by the waist so suddenly her only reaction was for her lips to form a small 'o'.

"Sirius," she warned, placing a restraining hand on his chest, but he wasn't listening. Throwing a frustrated glance over his shoulder at a triumphant looking Lily, he called, "Real mature, Evans!" before turning to Charlie with a slightly apologetic expression and saying, just as he would if he were greeting her in the hallway, "Alright, Charl?"

There was a brief second, in which many things happened. Lily called back, "Oh, like _you _can talk!". Charlie steeled herself for a three-second-tops-kiss with one of her best mates. The tossers of Gryffindor managed one more fist-pump and half a chant. Selwyn brandished yet another knut. James' slack mouth finally let loose a drop of accumulated saliva. Mac, Remus, Pete, Leonie and Sara all looked on in a state of speechless shock. Sirius leant forward and was just puckering his lips. And then –

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open. Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor stepped into the room, navy night slippers just visible under the hem of her hastily donned robe. She did not look pleased.

Face taut and eyes completely narrow, the Head demanded from the now completely silent and still Common Room, "_What _is the meaning – of – all – this _– racket?_"

The last word cracked through the air like a whip. Charlie, her face a mere inch from Sirius', winced at the sound of it.

"It is _two – o'clock – in – the MORNING._"

Her threatening gaze swept over every Gryffindor student, provoking various reactions of fear from each of them. One girl choked on her own breath. Once on Sirius, his eyes widened a fraction and he immediately dropped Charlie. She fell away from his body with a slight stumble and her own wide eyes.

"I _understand _that today has been an exciting day but it does _not _excuse such barbarity," McGonagall continued to reprimand, and her voice reverberated off the walls. Her mouth snapped shut into its very thin line before, and after one last icy survey, it opened once more and she barked, "Off to bed – the lot of you! Now! Move!"

The students burst into action and as boys and girls scampered up their respective staircases, tails between their legs, Charlie and Sirius could not resist exchanging wide grins of relief. And then, like true friends, the pair slapped hands in a celebratory high-five of the narrowly escaped public snog.

"I wasn't going to do it," said Sirius in an undertone, his eyes twinkling.

As yet more students rushed passed her to get to their dormitories, Charlie laughed and replied, "Yeah, neither was I."

She wasn't sure if she was telling the truth – just as she wasn't sure if he was, but there was no time to find out as McGonagall eagle-like eyes sought them out.

"Black! Frazier! _Bed!_"

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it! Really, I think this might be one of my favourites :)

Many thanks as always to everyone who reviewed last chapter: Hellfire Putten Ninja, Rebakah, jasminebrooke and The Weatherwitch. I've officially taken to replying to each review! I realised that if you can take the time to write a response to my story, then I can most definitely take the time to write a response to your review - not just to answer questions, but also simply to say thanks! ... Hopefully none of you find this new revelation an annoyance :\

Anyway, I hope you were all satisfied to see that it was our handsome boy Sirius who rescued Charlie - if only he got to claim the sugar too, hey?

Hit that review button and give us a shout! Love always,

- the punchline.


	6. I Think You're Sweet Enough

**Chapter Six - I Think You're Sweet Enough:**

"Goodness. I-is she – is she _drooling?"_

"Well _something's _obviously been leaking."

"I don't want to wake her up anymore. You do it, Sara."

"Me? Do you see that massive gob? She could swallow me whole!"

"… Fine. Charlie. _Charlie."_

Charlie groaned and rolled over in her bed, feeling someone's hands poking her cautiously in the shoulder.

"Charlie."

Poke.

"Charlie!"

Poke poke poke.

"_Chaaarliiieee. _C'mon!"

Jab jab jab.

"Oh, for goodness sake Lily you're pathetic. _Aguamenti!"_

A jet of ice water hit Charlie straight in the face, and she bolted upright, sending Lily and Leonie screaming for cover.

"Wha? What time is it?" Charlie bumbled, writhing about her covers. "Wha? Why? Whe –"

Charlie choked as Sara, out of nowhere, stuffed a sock in her mouth. The dark-haired girl stood at the side of her bed, hands on hips, wand in hand and all business.

"I was going to tell you to put a sock in it, but then I decided to do it myself," she drawled. "Hogsmeade trip in about thirty-five minutes."

"Thirty-three!" squeaked Leonie as Charlie spat out the thankfully fresh laundered sock and began desperately pawing at her tongue.

"Thirty-three," amended Sara in a voice that suggested she couldn't really have cared less. "Are you coming or not?"

Charlie abandoned the tongue sanitization. "Thirty-five minutes!" she exclaimed, pushing back her heavy duvet.

"Thirty-two," Leonie corrected timidly.

"Would you like us to go down and get you some breakfast?" asked Lily. "I mean, you _are _coming with us aren't you?"

"Yeah! Yeah, of course!" _Way to go, Frazier. First time the girls want to play with you, and you decide sleep is more important. _"Tell you what. How about you guys go down, and I'll meet you at the gates in half an hour?"

"You can get ready in half an hour?" Lily looked flabbergasted.

"Erm… yeah."

"Whoa." All three girls stared at her in amazement.

When Charlie arrived in the Great Hall fifteen minutes later (though Leonie would have claimed it was actually seventeen), there weren't a lot of people still eating. Many of them were probably meeting their friends, getting ready for the Hogsmeade trip. So it was quite a surprise when Charlie spotted Mister Selwyn Ackerley sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table, despondently slurping up his spaghetti Bolognese one noodle at a time.

Silently, Charlie slid onto the bench opposite her friend and began filling a small bowl with steaming chicken soup.

"Detention?" she asked after a few spoons.

"Yep." Selwyn glanced up, smiled ruefully and then sucked up another noodle. It was a wonder how he even managed to find a bowl of Bolognese for breakfast.

"Huh. Well at least you can keep Suicide Pete company," said Charlie, choosing to ignore the red sauce that coated his lower face.

"That is true. Poor chap."

Charlie watched her dejected friend with sympathy. "You want me to buy you some robes or something?"

"Nah, I already asked Remus, actually."

"Oh alright."

"Mmm."

Silence, but for the sticky slurping of Selwyn and his pasta.

"Was it McGonagall?"

Selwyn sighed. "Who else would give me a detention on today, of all days?"

"Oh no," a female voice cried. "Have you got a detention, Selwyn?"

It was none other than Deanna Andromeda. She was wearing a pair of rather tight jeans and a jumper with pretty pink little mittens and a matching beanie.

Selwyn immediately broke out in a sweat. "Yeah," he all but panted. "Bollocks, isn't it?"

"Aw," cooed Deanna as she approached the table. "And I was kind of hoping we could meet up at the Three Broomsticks for a celebratory butterbeer or something… But I guess not." She smiled sadly and then waved a pretty pink mitten at him. "I'll see you later then Selwyn. Bye Charlie."

"Bye, Deanna."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Charlie turned to Selwyn with a raised brow. "No bye? No 'yeah, maybe next time'? What's your problem, you idiot?"

Selwyn's large hand was a fist. "Patience, Charlie," he told her through gritted teeth as he watched the girl in question from under knitted brows. "I'm still… plucking up the courage."

Charlie groaned impatiently. "Well anytime now, Ackerley. She's kind of _leaving,_ if you didn't notice."

Selwyn rose suddenly, dropping his fork with a clatter. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called across the hall, "Andromeda!"

Charlie's eyebrows rose. This was not the farewell she'd been expecting.

Deanna turned and looked at him curiously, already near the huge doors.

"I hear there's some kind of party happening next weekend! Did you want to maybe go together?"

Deanna stared at Selwyn, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Selwyn Ackerley," she said firmly. "Did you just ask me, very vaguely, to be your date to Aunerie's farewell ball?"

Selwyn grinned boyishly, the absence of rejection making him suddenly arrogant. "Yeah, I think I just did."

Deanna glanced at the rest of the Great Hall, who were inconspicuously watching from behind their Daily Prophets and soup spoons.

"Well you don't sugar coat a thing, do you?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I usually do," Selwyn replied impishly, "but I think you're sweet enough."

Charlie almost choked on her spoon at the ultimate cheesy line while several groans and guffaws erupted from other listening students.

But it seemed to work, because Deanna laughed. "Alright then. It's a date!"

A few people applauded as she smiled and flounced out of the hall. Charlie grinned and went back to her soup, watching Selwyn sneakily as he flopped back onto the bench with a dreamy sigh. A thought suddenly occurred to her and she looked back to Deanna quickly. After studying the retreating figure for a few moments she turned to her friend thoughtfully.

"Selwyn?"

"Mm?" he looked up from his bowl.

After a pause, Charlie asked, "Do boys like torsos?"

Selwyn's forehead crinkled. "Torsos?"

"Mm."

He put his fork down and sat straighter, appearing to mull over the presented query.

"Well…" He stroked his nonexistent stubble. "Certainly not wizard boys, as you can understand. But I guess muggle boys, and blokes like me whose mum's obsessed with those effing magazine columns… But then again, most boys don't know who's most compatible, you know? Guess you've gotta do your research. I mean, one of those zodiac, Inner Eye, Trelawny-type women once told me I'd most likely get married to a Leo, but –"

"_Torsos, _Selwyn, not bloody _Taurus'_," Charlie snapped when it became clear Selwyn was blabbering on about something completely irrelevant.

Selwyn blinked. "There's a difference?"

Charlie groaned. She pushed her finished soup bowl away and stood up. "I'll see you later, Selwyn."

Bewildered, the boy nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, see you."

* * *

><p>It was a strange ordeal for Charlie; walking through Hogsmeade's main street with – get this – her arms <em>linked <em>with Lily Evans and Leonie Franks. Sara was linked on the other side of Lily, and the whole chain of girls was a phenomenon Charlie found slightly bizarre. She was finding it hard to step where no one else was, and turning into different streets or shops became a task rather similar to towing cars. When the wind blew her curls into her face, it was virtually impossible to reach up and tuck it behind her ears unless she broke the chain – and she never dared do that in case it was some kind of unspoken Girl Code: Never Break the Arm Link of Friendship. And then what would happen? Would she be forced to wear the horrendously-coloured Lipstick of Shame?

"There it is! Lolita's!"

The entire row of girls veered right on behalf of Lily pulling them in the direction of a small, orangey-pink painted shop with women's dress robes modeling themselves in the window. The name LOLITA'S was painted gold in feminine, cursive writing and the whole shop just looked shockingly female.

Charlie tripped over her own feet during the otherwise well-executed turn, and continued stumbling as Leonie and Lily kept moving along gracefully as if they were one person, not eight feet joined by crooked and hooked elbows.

Just as they were about to enter, Felicity Parkinson, Head Girl, and her friend Clary Sprinklet from Hufflepuff stepped out.

Upon noticing Lily, Felicity's chin jutted out and she eyed the redhead with disdain.

"Evans."

"Parkinson," Lily returned, looking somewhat amused. Felicity flicked her hair and the pair flounced off down the main street without a glance back.

"What was that about?" asked Charlie.

"I'm not sure," Lily grinned helplessly. "She just went all Ice-Queen on me around the middle of fifth year. I don't mind."

"It's because she fancied Potter back then," said Sara smugly as she pulled open the store door. "But of course, he never had eyes for anyone 'cept Lily."

Lily rolled her own eyes with a grin as they all shuffled into the store by a complicatedly angled single file. A mysterious bell tinkled away upon their entry and seconds later, a bright eyed, red cheeked sales assistant with silky golden hair Apparated before them.

"Hi," she began cheerfully, pulling out her 'I' so long the word became 'Hiiiiiiiiieeeeeeyuh'. "My name's Ellery! Would you like some assistance choosing a gown? Or … are you just browsing?" The look she shot the four teenagers suggested 'just browsing' was something highly frowned upon in Lolita's.

"Hi." Lily stepped forward confidently and, quite easily, extracted herself from the string of girls. Charlie's eyes widened as she watched Lily standing there, free and quite solitary, chatting to Ellery about a 'heavenly' dress. And just like that, Sara was also standing alone, and Leonie pulled her arm out of Charlie's and wondered over to a rack of long sweeping robes, leaving Charlie standing with her arms stuck out like a chickens and her feet squished together in a no longer necessary attempt to reduce her personal space bubble.

The Arm Link of Friendship was destroyed, and she was _free. _

"Charlie, come over here, Ellery's got that dress I was telling you about."

Knowing her liberty had been too good to last, Charlie looked over to where the cheery shop assistant was holding a willowy, bright pink number a tight-fitting bodice.

"Try it on!" she chirped, almost too helpfully.

Fifteen minutes, two bodily tangles and a few desperate cries for help later, Charlie nervously peered at herself in a floor-length mirror. She'd only just remembered to magic away her leg hair when she was getting ready that morning, but thank Merlin she did. Thin material fanned out from her waist, coming down to just above her knees and her bare legs were uncomfortably exposed. As she fingered the flimsy material anxiously, Ellery hovered behind her, pinning pieces of material here and there and pulling up the halter around her neck to 'give those little mosquito bites a bit of a bulge, eh?'

"I'm not sure…" Charlie confessed, biting her lip as she surveyed her own doubtful reflection.

"Why not?" demanded Lily, hands flying to her hips. The redhead was looking stunning in a sapphire blue, elegant floor-length gown that made her auburn locks and bright green eyes stand out like farts in church.

"I feel like a three year old, having a crack at being the first brunette Barbie," she replied brusquely.

"Who-bie?" asked Sara, as pure as Purebloods get. Sara wasn't buying a dress, she said she had one at home that she'd really like to wear, and would get her mum to owl over. The tall girl lounged across an antique divan, playing idly with a feathery head-piece. But Charlie was too distracted by her own thoughts to answer.

Back to chewing her lip, she was casting an anxious glance across the shop. She took in the lacy curtains, and the plush carpets. She eyed the coloured mesh decorations and the soft feathers sticking out of anything that could hold them. Finally, her gaze swept across the many dresses, all extravagant and eye-catching, and she timidly suggested, "Could we maybe… when you guys are finished… could we try Madame Malkins?"

"Madame Malkins?" Sara repeated, sounding slightly repulsed. "That old bat? You know the last time I went there she practically immersed a pin in my left boob."

Charlie groped for words, afraid she'd just labeled herself as plain as an unsalted cracker and completely without X chromosome. "It's just," she stuttered, "I'm more… I think I'm more suited to –"

"Sure we can go!" Leonie beamed, shooting a glance at Sara. "I think I'd like to see a larger range before I take my pick as well, you know?"

Lily nodded. "Absolutely," she said, already returning to her small dressing room. "Except, Ellery, I think I'll buy this one. I really like it, don't you?"

Everyone nodded enthusiastically, especially Ellery, who was obviously thrilled to be making at least one sale.

* * *

><p>Charlie was pleased to note that the four girls arrived at Madame Malkins without linking a single arm. She pushed open the door, hearing the familiar bell ring upon their arrival.<p>

"Ooh," came Madame Malkin's sweet, elderly voice from somewhere in the building, which had a far larger interior than exterior. "I'll be right over once I've finished with these boys. In the meantime, feel free to browse and select anything that tickles your fancy!"

The girls split, disappearing between the many racks of wizard garments.

"OUCH!"

"Oh, my apologies, dear."

Charlie grinned, recognizing the indignant voice. She made her way to the centre of the shop, where Pete stood on a small stool, arms spread out like an eagle and his teeth gritted. Madame Malkin had a bright yellow measuring tape pulling itself tight around his tubby little belly as she stood to the side with a pen and pad, scribbling down measurements.

"My, you've grown since the last time you were in here, Mr. Pettigrew," she was musing.

"And I don't think she means vertically, my friend," called another familiar voice from inside a changing room. Sirius pulled back his curtain and emerged, chuckling about his own joke, and very much topless. He paused when he saw Charlie, standing behind Madame Malkin with a stifled grin. Her eyes locked with his, and then, not by her own will, dropped down to his very well sculpted chest. Despite it being a sight she'd been casually graced with several times before, Charlie couldn't help the pink that tinged her cheeks as she quickly looked away.

"Hey Charlie," said Sirius.

Either because he noticed her discomfort or was just being gentlemanly, he turned back to the changing room and grabbed the t-shirt he'd worn into Hogsmeade and pulled it over his head gruffly. The plain muggle- branded shirt clashed awfully with his pressed ebony trousers, but the grin he shot her seemed to make it fit perfectly.

"Charlie? What's she doing here?" James yanked back the curtain of his dressing room next to Sirius'. "Aren't you meant to be _robe_ shopping with _the girls_?"

The boys had taken the news of her little outing just as she'd expected them too. Selwyn had pulled her into a tight embrace and began uncontrollably sobbing that his little Charlie Warlie was finally making friends. James, also not surprisingly, steeped into an unflattering envy and insisted Charlie was breaking the Bro Code by dating his future wife before he did.

At that moment, despite his sneer, he looked almost ready for a photo shoot. He was dressed in similar pants to Sirius, but with a white pressed shirt to match, unbuttoned at the neck, with a black bow tie loosely adorning it. His hair was ruffled just how he liked it, his black rectangular glasses framed his hazel eyes strikingly and his shoes were shiny enough to attract a Niffler. Charlie would have had to be blind to deny her friend looked _fit_. And it became quite clear that Lily Evans thought likewise when she stumbled upon the little group, looking flustered and holding aloft a black dress as if she'd rescued it from a stampede.

"Charlie! This will look great on …" Her eyes widened as she noticed James. She gulped. "… you."

"Lilypad!" James grinned. She didn't respond.

"Cleans up quite well, doesn't he Evans?" Sirius smirked as the small group watched Lily become amusingly immobile and speechless. A cocky smirk was blossoming on James' face.

Lily suddenly exploded into action. She forced the dress into Charlie's arms, eyes darting about frantically, landing on anything but James Potter, the Potential Face of Madame Malkins. Charlie stumbled backwards, arms overflowing with dress as, in response to Sirius' query, Lily stuttered, "Not, er – not sure –"

She spun around and tried, but failed, to disappear between two wizard robes hanging off a rack. Hitting her head on the wall behind, Lily tottered backwards, swerving right and all but running off between two mannequins.

"What was _that _about?" Remus asked, emerging from the dressing room to James' right. His dress robes were back on its hanger and he placed it carefully on a chair. "Too big," he told Madame Malkin after she shot him a worried look. She nodded and bustled off to find him another one, having finished with Pete.

Sirius, Charlie and Pete all exchanged looks.

"Oh, nothing," replied Sirius smugly. "Just looks like Prongs' got a chance after all." He clapped James (whose grin had become somewhat dazed) on the back as they all sniggered. Charlie took a seat on a long backless settee, finally comfortable with her surroundings.

Although the Gryffindor girls were kindhearted and provided interesting company, and Charlie was more than eager to finally close the gap between them, there was no denying a weight of tension had lifted off her shoulders in the presence of her old friends.

"You going to try that on, Charlie?" Remus nodded towards the black satin bundle in Charlie's lap.

"Oh," she blushed, eying the sophisticated material unsurely. "I don't know…"

Sara emerged into the clearing, hands on hips. She looked directly at Charlie, who cringed under her demanding gaze, and nodded towards the dressing rooms. "Get in there, Frazier."

* * *

><p>"How does it look?" Lily called from outside the small room. She'd nonchalantly reappeared after James had emerged from his dressing room, once again wearing his muggle clothes.<p>

Charlie didn't answer as she apprehensively smoothed down the black material that flowed down her body to her feet. She stared at herself in the mirror. The dress was painfully pretty; too pretty for such a plain Jane as Charlie. Her mouth scrunched to the side as she scrutinized the split that ran up to just above her knee and the neckline that was just a little too low for comfort. She twisted around and gazed worriedly at her bare back.

"Charlie!" That was Lily again.

"Um, yes?" She bit her lip.

"Are you ready?"

"Er, for what?" She twisted this way and that, trying to glimpse her body from every angle provided by the many mirrors.

"What do you mean for what? Come out here so we can see how you look! I'm sure you look stunning."

_Stunning. _She frowned at the small mole on her left shoulder, uncovered for the world to see. _Right._

"Don't make me bust that door open with my wand!" threatened Sara.

"She's not kidding, Charlie," came James' matter-of-fact voice. "Cunningham's got her battle stance ready and everything."

Charlie eyes widened. She scurried as best as she could with her floor length gown to the curtain and opened it an inch, poking her head out. She stared, wide-eyed at her audience.

"You," she said frantically, squeezing a naked arm out to gesture at the four boys grinning back at her from their various positions on lounges. "You can't stay here! No – absolutely not. Can't you go visit Zonkos or something? You must be finished here by now."

She glanced at the three girls for support, wondering if _they'd _be comfortable stepping out feeling half-nude into a room full of horrifically immature boys. All she got were amused grins and shrugs of fake helplessness.

"Actually, Zonkos doesn't sound like such a bad idea."

"You're right, Prongs," agreed Sirius. "Let's skedaddle."

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and let the curtain fall close once more. Starting to hyperventilate a little bit, she fanned her red face and hurriedly pulled her hair into a high knot. She could hear the boys shuffling about noisily on their way out of the shop.

"Alright," Leonie called softly once the shuffling had ceased. "They're gone. You can come out now."

Glancing once more at herself in the mirror, Charlie took a deep breath and stepped outside.

… To the sound of three exceptionally male wolf-whistles.

"Sweet Merlin," breathed Lily, ignoring Charlie's look of absolutely mortification as she gaped at the still present boys. "You look…"

"… Beautiful."

Sirius, the only bloke who hadn't whistled, was staring at Charlie in such a way she felt her face heat up. She glanced away and noticed the other three girls smugly observing the exchange.

After a few more moments of awkward silence, Charlie took a deep breath. "Okay!" she exhaled with false enthusiasm and turned back to the dressing room.

"OH _DARLING_!"

Charlie cringed.

"GOODNESS GRACIOUS, AREN'T YOU JUST _PRECIOUS_?" Madame Malkins bustled into the clearing, breasts and hips jostling from side to side alarmingly. Her hands clutched her red face and she stared at Charlie as if she'd just delivered Madame Malkins' first grandchild.

Charlie smiled shyly. She glanced at the others uncomfortably and then asked her, "You like it?"

"I love it, sweetums, you absolutely _must _purchase it! I'll even give you ten percent off," she beamed suggestively, arms open wide in offer.

"Er…"

"She's right Charlie," said Leonie. "You look great. If you don't buy it, I will. And not for myself, either."

* * *

><p>(AN): First off, let me say that yes, I do realise Madame Malkin's is in Diagon Alley, not Hogsmeade :( But by the time I'd realised, I had already progressed far into the rest of the story, and I'm just too fond of this particular scene. So – I just – it's – FUCK THAT. Cool?

Though it actually kills me a little bit every time I read this chapter.

Anyway! On a more positive note - thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: Leah, Annie, The Weatherwitch, Harry and Rebakah. And also, much gratitude towards everyone who has favourited this story, or put it on alert. I don't thank you enough, but really, your encouragement is massively appreciated! I hope _The Willemina_ lives up to your expectations.

Next chapter: A shorter installment in which we catch a glimpse of Sirius' nostalgic POV, and build some hype for the upcoming ball!

Thank you all,

- the punchline.


	7. A Fat Red Cap in a Beanie

**Chapter Seven – A Fat Red Cap in a Beanie:**

Sirius couldn't really remember the last time he'd gone speechless over a girl. Well, he could, but it was a very long time ago. Now, as he trudged across the Hogwarts grounds to meet the boys and plan their next after-dark adventure, he reminisced over his fourth year, when every time a certain girl came within a three feet vicinity, he turned into a solid, silent and rather sweaty figure. He smirked as he remembered how he'd find himself subconsciously leaning towards the floral scent of her brown locks; or zoning out of almost every conversation if she happened to be an active participant – purely because he was too busy trying to find vague and imperceptible means of staring at her. It was the year the then Quidditch captain had been reduced to threatening to kick him off the team if he didn't get his act together during matches (didn't really help that she'd been in the front row of the stands during every single one), and also the year the Hogwarts female population had decided that Sirius was 'dark', some would say 'mysteriously sexy', yet at the same time 'oh so cute' and _obviously _'sensitive'. _Clearly _he just needed the right girl to 'bring him out of that well-defined, god-like shell'.

Well back then, Charlie Frazier could have cracked him open anytime.

Glancing at the huge Hogwarts clock, Sirius realized he was running late and picked up his pace. It was that time of the evening when microscopic buzzing things rose out of the grass, and the insects that stayed on the ground compensated their inability to become airborne by rubbing together various parts of their anatomy and making high-pitched noises. The students were starting to retreat back into the castle, a majority probably to pick up their quills and half-heartedly start their homework. Even as Sirius watched, he saw Lily Evans, Leonie Franks and Sara Cunningham pack up their little study club, which had been situated by the Black Lake, and stride off towards Gryffindor Tower. Sirius had half-expected to see Charlie there with them, seeing as they all seemed to be so chummy lately, but then he remembered he'd seen her stretched out on one of the sofas in the Common Room, poring over a Quidditch magazine with Mac.

It had been a strange sensation seeing her the other day at Madame Malkins, looking far better than he'd expected in a dress that might have been fairly ordinary on any other girl. In fact, it was the same sensation that had brought on the flood of memories from his fourth year, which he'd tried so hard to forget. All in all; not a very welcome sensation.

The sun was low, casting long shadows across the golden landscape and along the planes of Sirius' face. Movement in the corner of his eye had him frowning and looking to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where the sun rays were abruptly swallowed by the eerie darkness of the trees. He halted and stared at the scene in case one of the forest's creatures wanted a change in scenery and had managed to come dangerously close to the castle. When it became clear no rogue centaur or crazed Cornish pixie was going to charge him, Sirius made to keep moving, only to stop once more when he saw a familiar lanky figure all but plummet out of a particularly twisted, black tree. He watched, only slightly curious, as Errol Camden scrambled up, stuffed something that was most likely for an eager potions endeavour in his pocket and sprinted off in an uncoordinated fashion.

Sirius shook his head in wonder as he watched the boy cross the grounds, legs plunging towards the ground with dangerously injury-insuring technique. _Strange bloke,_ he thought. He grinned to himself and continued towards the beech tree, where he could see Moony, Prongs and Wormtail waiting for him. He waved at the trio, pointed at Errol's retreating figure and grinned when their amused chuckles reached his ears.

* * *

><p>Sniggering softly, Charlie nudged open the door to the boy's dormitory and both she and Mac blindly shuffled forward as she called, "We're coming in!"<p>

With their eyes squeezed tightly shut and small giggles escaping their pursed lips, the two girls carefully navigated through the room.

"Ooh – I tripped! Watch out for the –"

"Gah!"

"You tripped?"

"Yes – Oh, is that you?"

"That's my bum, yes. Hup – found a bed!"

"Found a bed?"

"Yep – here take my hand – no, _here_ – Mac – yep – _there_ we go!"

They each settled themselves comfortably on the mattress, eyes still firmly closed. The reason for the little parade was the previous night, when Charlie had waltzed happily into the same dormitory only to be confronted by all two of James Potter's round, surprisingly white, bare arse cheeks. This unanticipated sight, coupled with that of the remaining four dormitory occupants sitting in a surrounding circle of chairs, each inspecting the buttocks closely and holding what seemed to be a very serious discussion ("A clabbert... wearing a top hat?" "Perhaps, Remus, but if you look closely the hat is of a more _rounded _shape, too much for a top hat...") had her moaning in incoherent appal as she stumbled back down the stairs, accepting that she was now scarred for life.

Although the boys had explained at breakfast that the conference had been to officially identify the exact shape of James' inconveniently placed birth mark (a fat Red Cap in a beanie) and had promised it was a one-time thing, Charlie was determined not to make the same mistake twice. Hence, she now blindly sat straight and loftily announced to the room, "If you're nude, or in any sort of compromising position, we have accommodated you thus far but you _really_ should have had the decency to pull some clothes or alleviate yourselves by now, so we're uncovering our eyes in _three... two, one – _WHAT is that?"

Charlie had opened her eyes only see Selwyn looking unimpressed and dressed in tuxedo-styled robes.

"_Bloody hell."_ Mac's jaw dropped as she too took in the dark, handsome outfit. "_Remus_ bought that for you?"

"Yep," Selwyn muttered bitterly, eying himself distastefully as he stood before a full-length mirror. Pinned to the wall to the right of the mirror was an old piece of parchment on which were seven written signatures (including the reluctant ones of Mac and Charlie) that ensured knowledge of the existence of any such mirror did not leave the dormitory. The boys had a non-pansy reputation to uphold, after all.

"But – but," stuttered Mac, "he couldn't find anything even remotely nice for _himself_!"

"This is _nice_? I look like an effing penguin."

Charlie's snigger earned her a glare from Selwyn.

"Not funny, Frazier," he ground out, emphasizing the alliteration.

"_Ac_tually _Ack_erly, girls fancy the aquatic, flightless bird look nowadays. The penguin suit gets all the hearts racing."

"Oh yeah? How's your bloody pumping, Charlie?"

She smirked. "Oh I'm more into the tropical birds, personally."

She laughed as Selwyn made a face at her and assured him that she was joking. "Really, you look fantastically handsome!"

"Deanna will like it," said Mac cheekily.

"You reckon?" said Selwyn instantly, gaze flicking anxiously once more to the 'non-existent' mirror.

"Sure!"

Unable to contain himself, Selwyn's lips twitched into a very embarrassed, very happy grin. Watching him fight to remain stoic, Charlie and Mac burst into laughter and soon enough, the red-cheeked Selwyn was chuckling also.

As he started to loosen his bowtie, Charlie remarked with teasing sincerity, "If you knock her up, you'll give birth to a whole new race of _fascinating _hybrids!"

Mac guffawed. "Half beauty – half _penguin!_"

Another glare from Selwyn had them laughing once more, until Charlie was reminded of a particular lesson that day. Sitting up, she said, "Oh – you won't believehow _mental _Felicity Parkinson went today in Potions," and began her story.

"It was bad enough that Slughorn paired me up with her ('cause we all know how frightening she gets, hey?), but then I _completely by accident _smeared some Invisibility ointment over her hand about halfway through its brewing. Mostly her hand just went kind of translucent, but a few of her nails – which were fake – acrylic, I think she said – started fizzing and melted into a goo that dripped right off the tips of her fingers. I know, it was disgusting. But you should have _seen _her face! She went absolutely mad! She had them done especially for the ball, you see – called me all kinds of nasties. Started screeching on about how they'd cost her a small fortune – something I wouldn't' understand of course – yeah, she said that – and then she told me she hoped my dress got torn right through the centre, because only then would justice be served. Like I'd murdered her _grandmother _or something! I'm surprised I made it out of the lesson unharmed."

The siblings listened to the story with interest, though were not surprised by the Head Girl's behaviour. Throughout her six years at Hogwarts, Felicity's haughty demeanour and notoriously short fuse had become as much a part of Hogwarts life as the moving stairwells.

"Still baffles me that she got Head Girl," mused Mac.

"Eh," shrugged Selwyn. "She's really smart. Takes her responsibilities seriously, too. And people listen to her – even if it is out of complete fright."

The door opened and in trooped the rest of the dorm residents. Sirius smirked when he saw Charlie and Mac on the mattress and leered, "Although I acknowledge the pleasantries of being in Sirius Black's bed, ladies, I assure you it would be far more enjoyable if I were to join you."

Mac widened her eyes dramatically. "Please don't."

The boys sniggered and began to move off to their separate corners of the room.

Mac sighed at Charlie. "See what we have to tolerate as the lone females in an egotistical male group?"

James raised his eyebrows from where he now sat on his four-poster bed. He leaned forward and waggled a finger. "If I am correct, Ackerley, there are more than enough girls who are willing to take your place."

"Purely because they don't know the kind of gits you lot really are!" objected Charlie indignantly.

James shrugged. "Ignorance is bliss, as they say."

Charlie lay on her stomach and fiddled with Sirius' ruffled, crimson bed sheets.

"You still harassing Lily about the ball?" she asked after a few moments of companionable silence, filled only with the boys bustle of small activity.

Mac snorted deridingly. "Lost cause," she muttered, shaking her head with a smirk.

"Hey," James retorted. "As a matter of fact, she's warming to the idea."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," assured Mac sarcastically. "Just as I was sure that when she said 'Absolutely not' yesterday and then 'the answer is no' today, you would somehow manage to delude yourself into thinking that she's head over heels in love with you."

James scowled and pompously bent over to busily pull off his socks.

"Hold on," said Charlie eagerly. "She said _'Absolutely not' _yesterday – and then '_the answer is no_' today?"

Hearing her excited tone, James snapped upright and shot her an enthusiastic grin. "_Yes_!"

"Wahey! That's a massive improvement!' she cried, astonished.

"Right?" James' looked as if he wanted to hold hands and jump in circles, squealing. "I've definitely gotten worse!"

Suddenly, Charlie face-planted into the bed sheets as something soft and pillowy slammed into her head_. _She oofed appropriately and grappled the offending down-filled object off of her.

"Who was that and what the bloody hell made it necessary?"

"T'was I," declared Selwyn theatrically, raising a hand in ownership of the pillow. Dropping the act, he told her to cover her eyes because he had to change out of his robes.

"I'm not sure if I should be pleased or disturbed by the fact that I didn't get bombarded with a pillow," observed Mac drily.

Selwyn glared at his little sister, clearly unamused. "You," he said, "need to go owl that letter Mum's been waiting for since the start of the sodding school year!"

After a quick squabble, Mac stomped out of the room. A few moments later, Remus spoke from behind the day's Daily Prophet, which he was no doubt reading for the second time.

"Wait a minute," he said. "We don't have to have a date, do we?"

"We have to have a date?" Peter practically shrieked.

"No, I didn't say –"

"How are we all going to get dates in two days?"

"And from _where?_"

Charlie was smug. "And didn't James just say there were plenty of girls willing to –"

"CHARLIE!"

"Er... yes?"

"I SHOTGUN CHARLIE!"

"_Shotgun? EXCUSE ME? I'm not a bloody object –"_

"Charlie's right –"

"Thank you, Remus."

"She deserves someone classier. Someone like me."

"Oh – now wait a minute –"

"Boys, boys!" Sirius emerged from the bathroom, smelling fresh and looking scrubbed. "_Clearly, _I'M the one who is most fitting to take Charlie to the ball so –"

"_You?"_

"Of course."

"But she already knows how spiffing it is to be _my _date – remember when she lost that bet and had to pretend to be my girlfriend at the Potter's Christmas banquet?"

"Exactly, Pete, you've had your chance. Sharing is caring, after all."

Charlie would've thought that seeing as she was the one that they were fighting over, the boys would have noticed her irately clambering off the bed and out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

But apparently not.

* * *

><p>AN: It's short, I know. And I also know that this chapter may have seemed a bit pointless plot-wise, especially the last scene, but I assure there were some important seeds planted! Chin up, kids. Next chapter we begin to get into the thick of things. The ball is upon us, and I have our favourite OC's starring alongside an endearingly protective Sirius - nomnom!

Thank you's go to: UnperfectButLovingIt, Night Hawk 97, Rebakah, Willow (I completely understand what you mean - language has been a hurdle for me with writing this, and to be honest I've been focused on getting my British English correct full stop - hadn't even thought about whether it was relevant to the times! But I'll definitely think about it in future writing, thanks so much for your insight!), The Weatherwitch, slythernprincess, Hellfire Putten Ninja and Leah (thanks for your encouragement, I hope you enjoyed Sirius' POV!). And everyone who favourited/alerted. You're all too cool. Really.

Anyway, I'd love to hear from you all - a favourite line, constructive criticism, thoughts on a character? :) Hit the review button and give us a shout (or else just stay tuned until next update!)

- the punchline.


	8. Fruit Juice!

**Chapter Eight - Fruit Juice!**

Another glance at the clock in the dormitory told the four flustered and overstressed Gryffindor girls that fashionably late was twenty minutes ago.

"I HAVE A FIIINE BOY DOWNSTAIRS WAITING FOR ME!" shouted Sara Cunningham, glaring at herself in Leonie Franks' dressing table as she dropped an eyeliner to instead snatch up a lipstick. Sara herself was looking gorgeous, wearing a red dress that hung fashionably loose, straight down to her mid-thigh, and some heels that could successfully pierce someone's jugular vein. Her smoky eye make-up and newly applied cherry-red lipstick was sure to attract quite a bit of male attention, as no doubt she intended.

"Oh calm down, Sara – ooh, can I borrow that after you? Yep, that one..." Lily Evans, having just laid down her wand from styling her hair, scooted down next to Sara and with surgical precision began applying her own make-up.

"Is it always like this?" Charlie asked Leonie Franks tentatively. The two girls sat gingerly on the edge of Lily's bed, careful not to ruin their hair, make-up, posture, or wrinkle or – heaven forbid – _tear _their dresses.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"Oh."

Glancing at Lily and Sara, who were now squabbling over a powder brush, Charlie caught her own reflection in the mirror. A mixture of feelings filled her; anxiety, fear, discomfort and, surprisingly, pride. Charlie's make-up and hair had been done courtesy of Lily's fantastic multi-tasking magic. While the redhead had been picking out some jewellery for herself, her vine and dragon heartstring wand delicately twirled Charlie's chestnut hair into a complex knot at the crown of her head. Staring at her reflection now, with her face smooth and devoid of her usual front fringe, cheeks faintly touched with an earthly, shimmering pink and a beautiful silver chain (donated by Sara Cunningham) hanging down her chest, Charlie had to admit she had cleaned up alright.

Lily suddenly screamed for some make-up remover tonic and as Leonie sprang up to accommodate Charlie noted not for the first time how efficiently the girls worked together to get ready for the ball. There had even been someone to zip up her dress for her when she couldn't reach herself. That's what Charlie called teamwork.

She drifted off, pondering everything she'd been missing out on all the times she struggled to get ready for various dinners with her parents' colleagues or one of Slughorn's Halloween parties. And so when Lily Evans clapped her hands and barked at her to "Get off your bum Frazier and let's go", she continued to stare, wide-eyed and reminiscent, at the floor.

"HEY!" Lily snapped her fingers in Charlie's face. She blinked into focus. "It's party time."

* * *

><p>The Great Hall looked magnificent. The entire hall was bathed in a bright white, emanating from little orbs of light of which there were thousands floating in the air above them. Silk ribbons hung down from above and glittering banners reading things such 'Farewell Dear Colleague' and 'Hat's off to an Exceptional Educator' covered the walls. Grand bouquets of flowers were everywhere, from in the centre of each table to in the crook of a coat of arms' elbow. The long house tables had been replaced by classy round ones fit for ten with a clearing in the centre for dancing. Hanging from the walls here and there were pictures taken from various highlights of Professor Aurnerie's time at Hogwarts: including one of him standing smugly in front of a desk, wand in hand and another of him being chased by some wild gnomes out of a classroom.<p>

"S'a bit much for old _Edmund_, isn't it?" James would later mutter unappreciatively in Charlie's ear. "One would think he founded the bloody place."

A jazz band was playing a slow content tune from a stage where the staff would usually have sat but tonight all huddled around a larger circular dining table in the centre of the hall, right on the edge of the dance floor. Over the heads of the excited students, Charlie could see Professor Aurnerie himself, wearing surprisingly impressive emerald robes, seated at Dumbledore's right hand and glowing under the attention the headmaster was showering upon him as he held up his glass for more wine.

The night was going well. Charlie moved around the hall, socialising and complimenting where compliments were due. Apart from Selwyn not one of the boys had managed to secure a date, though at one point Charlie and James did attempt to find some last-minute company for Remus. They found an eager-looking Hufflepuff, but when the Head Boy's engrossing tale of how Remus single-handedly rescued a kneazle turned into an epic saga describing Remus' secret alias and humble double-life, the more reserved boy excused himself with a roll of the eyes and Charlie and James could only assume they had been fired.

An hour into the night, Charlie heard her name being called and spotted Mac sitting at a table with a few of the boys. Excusing herself from a conversation with the strangely opinionated Ravenclaw Xenophilius Lovegood, she crossed the rather empty dance floor to join them. Halfway there, Charlie felt fingers wrap around her arm. She turned to find herself face to face with Rurik.

That is, Rurik in _very _nice dress robes.

They looked expensive, and were as dark as the night sky that swirled beyond the glowing orbs in the ceiling, with a thin, upturned collar. Beneath the robe, Rurik wore a fine white shirt with delicate embroidery and black buttons, tucked into matching black trousers.

"Good evening, Miss Frazier," he greeted with a dip of his beautiful dark head, eyes twinkling and lips only slightly quirked. His honey gaze slipped over her body like a searing potion, taking in her dark gown and pale skin before sweeping up to meet her gaze.

"You look beautiful," he said, and his accent sounded lovelier than ever.

"As – as do you," she managed to stutter, her mind a thick marsh of unfinished, flustered thoughts. As she continued to stare into his eyes, however, she began to feel the wildness leave her mind, to be replaced by a detached, blissful blankness.

But then Rurik smiled, showing off perfectly straight teeth, and Charlie regained her thoughts once more – her _normal _thoughts.

"It looks as if Hogwarts can throw a party," Rurik remarked cheerfully, casting an impressive glance at the decorations surrounding.

Charlie grinned also. "You sound as if you had doubted it," she said, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"Not at all," he said courteously. "My last school, Durmstrang... Well, we are not known for our festivities," he smiled.

"But do you miss it there?"

"I do."

"Why did you leave?"

Rurik chuckled. "That is not a story for now, Charlie. I wouldn't want to bore you on this wonderful occasion... Would you like to dance?"

The change of topic was successful. Although a dance shared with Rurik was exceptionally tempting – especially when his eyes glittered and his thin lips lilted so – Charlie cast a reluctant gaze over the dance floor. It was occupied by all of three couples, plus one that had stopped dancing all together in the preoccupancy of snogging. She bit her lip.

"Er..."

Rurik chuckled again, following her gaze. "Perhaps later."

He placed a hand on her back and guided her gently to an empty table nearby. Charlie's eyes sought out Mac with a touch of panic, only to find the younger girl sending an excited grin and waving her on. Rurik and Charlie sat down.

No sooner that had their bums hit the seats, however, a gaggle of fourth year girls appeared suddenly at the table, all clinging onto each other and giggling madly.

A heavily made up girl at the front of the pack stepped forward and, completely ignoring Charlie, asked, "Would you care to dance, Rurik?"

"Um..." He smiled politely, although it was clear he was uncomfortable. "Actually..."

"Actually," said Charlie, surprising herself, "He was just going to dance with me."

She smiled apologetically at the fourth years as she stood up, grabbing Rurik's hand. "Sorry ladies. Early bird gets the worm."

The girls all narrowed their eyes at her before rolling them and stalking off in search of another dance partner. As they went, Charlie could hear them calling her all kinds of things that questioned her modesty.

Rurik stood also. "I do not think I have ever been called a worm before." He smiled warmly. "But thank you."

Charlie smiled in return, blushing slightly.

Unable to avoid it now, they moved onto the dance floor. As they joined the three couples, Charlie could feel the judgemental eyes of the surrounding students on her. What had she gotten herself in to?

Rurik took her hand in one of his, placing the other on the small of her back. It would be a while before any traditional dances began, so for now the two of them simply swayed to the slow, light music.

Rurik was a wonderful dancer. He moved easily and kept her close like a gentleman, keeping his hand well above her arse and the rough skin of his chin constantly, almost rhythmically, brushing against her temple. She could feel her initial stiffness almost magically begin to melt away, despite the jealous stares she could still see being aimed at her from around the hall. There was soon a small, content smile on her face and a blissful blankness in her mind once more. Her only thought was that she could have danced with Rurik forever.

* * *

><p>"Oh, hello," greeted Mac smugly when Charlie scuttled onto the seat next to her. She handed her a tissue from the centre of the table and said in mocking superiority, "For the drool."<p>

Charlie's already mortified cheeks grew scarlet. "Leave me alone," she wailed.

The reason for her red cheeks was the _four songs _she'd just spent practically limp in Rurik's arms.

Not one dance! Not two! _Four_. She didn't know what came over her that had her basically declaring to the entire Hogwarts population that she was no less seduced by Rurik than one of his fourth year groupies. She might as well have Sellotaped as sign to her back that read, 'I'M ARSE OVER TITS FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL BOY.' Even though she wasn't. Was she?

Oh, but it was humiliating. She'd just remained there, happy as Larry and, as Mac pointed out, practically salivating on his shoulder until Sara Cunningham came over and said, "Alright Rurik, that's enough. How about you let the poor girl get back to her friends and come and share a dance with your cousin, hey?"

And it was only then, when Rurik's hand had reluctantly lifted from her back and she'd stepped out of his embrace, blinking like a new born foal, that Charlie realised how much of a fool she looked. Although there were plenty of other couples on the dance floor by then, Charlie doubted her lengthy time with Rurik had gone unnoticed. Sara's amused gaze proved as much, and with a flaming face she'd all but sprinted away from the two cousins.

"Do you fancy him then?" grinned Mac.

"No," said Charlie vehemently, grabbing a bread roll from the centre of the table and avoiding the gazes of the others seated there. Remus, James and Pete were all looking very uncomfortable with the direction of conversation.

"Look," said Charlie, tearing into the bread roll with passion. "I don't – I don't know what happened. I just got... lost. In my own thoughts I suppose."

"For four songs?"

"He's a very good dancer," she grumbled with hostility. "I felt like I was being rocked in a bloody cradle."

"Mmm," said Mac. "A warm, dark-haired, fit-bodied, beautiful fucking _Russian _cradle."

"Shut _up_ Mac!" said Charlie, just as James said loudly, "This is awkward!"

As Mac continued to look smug, Charlie sighed and held up her last piece of bread. "Where can I get more of these?"

"Check some of the other tables, fatty."

Ignoring the jibe, she got up and winded through the many tables to an empty one closer the dance floor. This one had a basket full of the appetisers, and she plonked herself down and began sulkily tearing apart a roll.

Maybe she was overreacting. Four songs wasn't so much of a controversy, really. In fact, she was probably being ridiculous. Conceited, too, to think that people were actually paying attention to _her _and what _she _was doing.

Having berated the anxiety out of herself, Charlie relaxed into her seat, eating her bread almost merrily. She'd just made a fuss out of nothing.

"Hungry, Charlie?"

She jumped, dropping her roll and squeaking in surprise.

"Errol!" she gasped as the lanky teenager stood over her gawkily.

"I'm sorry," Errol Camden blurted. "I just thought – ... How silly of me, you clearly want to be alone..." He turned to leave and Charlie lunged forward, managing to catch his wrist.

"Errol! Calm down... Stay!" She smiled before dropping his wrist quickly, having noticed that he was staring at her hand as if it were a rare specimen of Moroccan Teething Tadpole. Settling back in her chair, she patted the one beside her. "Take a seat."

He stared at her for a second longer and then carefully perched himself on the chair. He seemed more nervous than ever.

"I – I bought you a drink. To wash down the bread..." Shakily, he held out a glass of dark liquid.

"Oh, well, I've only had two..." she said (he made it sound as if she'd gobbled an entire basket down like a Neanderthal) and accepted the glass from him, choosing to ignore that he'd practically confessed to watching her for a few minutes at the least. Errol was special like that. Best to ignore his creepy little outbursts.

She squinted at the contents of the glass. "What is it?" she asked. Holding it up to the light, she discovered that it was actually a dark purple.

"It's – er – it's fruit juice. I found it at the drinks table. It's nice. I drank some."

"Fruit juice!" she smiled. "Brilliant. That was really thoughtful of you Errol, thanks."

He watched her intently as she sipped the drink. So much so, that Charlie grew uncomfortable. Even as she drank, her gaze flicked from his concentrated expression to the glass she held to her lips.

She lowered the glass consciously.

"Errol?" she prodded, pushing the almost empty glass towards him uncertainly. "Did you... want some?"

"No!" he said. "No, not at all, I bought it for you Charlie you should drink it you should drink it all."

It was something like verbal diarrhoea.

He pushed it back to her side of the table, his eyes large and almost frantic behind the thick glasses.

Overwhelmed, Charlie nodded hastily. "Yeah! O-okay!..."

She picked up the glass once more and, afraid if she didn't he might go a bit mad, quickly made to down the rest of the drink. That is, until she felt a sudden wave of dizziness.

"Oh," she said faintly, setting the glass down once more. She felt as if her head was lolling about on her own neck.

"Charlie?" Errol leaned forward, sounding panicked. Though one might argue he always sounded panicked.

She felt very heavy and groggy. Her head was threatening to fall backwards and roll right down her back. Charlie tried very hard to focus on keeping it attached, though it was hard as she kept losing concentration, as if to a tide. And then, in one big wave, the dizziness washed away. Her head lolled backwards with the force and she just managed to catch it, blinking hard as suddenly everything became clear.

Her eyes widened as she stared at Errol, who stared back with eyes even larger.

"Charlie!" he choked, his freckles standing out like beacons against the stark white of his scared face. He licked his chapped lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she heard herself say. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Looking at Errol, she detachedly watched him reach up to shakily push his thick-rimmed glassed further up his small freckly nose. He looked adorable.

"You – you must be tired," he said, voice strange.

"Yeah." She massaged her head with one hand. She didn't feel good. She felt light, woozy.

Errol scooted his chair closer and Charlie caught a whiff of his cologne. It was very strong and made her nose wrinkle. On anyone else it would have been nauseating, but on Errol... it was heavenly. Biting her lip, she looked up at him. He was watching her carefully, wearing mustard coloured robes and a confronting orange bowtie.

Her gaze met his and for a moment, Charlie's mind went very, very blank. He blushed and then inhaled powerfully, making quite the racket as the gunk in his nose was relocated. The noise registered slowly with Charlie, but eventually she broke out into a giggle.

"You're cute," she said, mesmerised.

He smiled at her, and Charlie felt herself go weak.

"You're beautiful," he whispered shyly.

She, too, smiled, ignoring an annoying nag in the back of her mind. "You're amazing."

He was blushing heavily by now, tentative but smiling.

"Do you... do you want to go to Madame Pudifoot's with me next Hogsmeade trip?"

"Yes."

He nodded, seemingly speechless at her acceptance. A strand of his soft brown hair dropped into his eyes and he pushed it away. Charlie noticed that his long fingers were perfect. Just perfect. She'd never noticed the smooth, beautifully pale complexion of Errol's hands, but she did now. They were superbly set off by the soft pink of his round fingernails.

"Could I –"

She reached forward and took one of his hands in her own, too distracted by them to bother finishing her question, let alone wait for an answer.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, bringing his fingernails close to her face. "So..."

She was meant to say 'so beautiful' but once again couldn't finish her question. She was bringing his fingers, his divine fingernails, to her lips...

"What the fuck, Charlie?"

* * *

><p>The song, a catchy, upbeat number, trumpeted to an end and Sirius grinned at the small group of Ravenclaw girls he'd found himself dancing with before excusing himself. They were pretty, and although he had turned on the usual charm for them (which, judging from the heated gazes and flirtatious smiles that had been sent his way, there was no doubt they appreciated) he wasn't in the mood to pursue any of them at that moment. They were disappointed that he was leaving, one of them pouted sexily, but Sirius insisted he was finished dancing. Grinning cockily, he instead moved towards the tables, searching for his mates.<p>

He spotted Charlie first, seated at a table close to the dance floor with Errol Camden. His smile widened and he began to move towards them but as he drew closer, he noticed Charlie's expression and his eyes narrowed. Her thin lips were strangely lax, and her eyes somewhat glazed as she stared at Camden in what could only be described as awe. Sirius couldn't help feeling half amused; very rarely did he see such a smitten expression on Charlie Frazier's face. And the fact that she was looking at _Errol Camden_... needless to say, he and the boys were going to have much to tease her about the next day.

Suddenly, Charlie reached forward and took one of Camden's hands. She was studying his fingers as if they were a gift from god. And then – as if in a trance – she was raising them to her lips. As if she was going to kiss them... or maybe even just pop them straight into her mouth...

By now, Sirius was close enough to say something. And he did.

"What the fuck, Charlie?"

Before he'd even registered his own movement, Sirius grabbed Errol's hand and flung it aside, away from Charlie's undeniably puckered lips. He then stared at the both of them, in both disbelief and disgust.

"What are you doing?" Charlie demanded angrily from her seat. Camden seemed to have frozen with fear.

"What are _you _doing?" he shot back, shocked. Whatever he'd expected as a response, hostility had not been one of them.

"I... I –"

Something wavered through Charlie's eyes. She blinked and it suddenly seemed to Sirius as if she was just as lost as he was. His anger immediately dissipated.

"Charlie," he frowned, moving closer. "Are you feeling alright?"

She shook her head to clear it. She seemed very confused. "Uh – yeah... I'm fine."

Sirius took her arm to guide her as she slowly got to her feet. Camden also sprang up, seeming more nervous than ever.

"Uh, Charlie! –" he said, and she glanced at him, and then did a double take. Her eyes widened.

Camden gave Charlie a shaky smile. Her own lips responded by quivering sweetly upwards. She was looking at him in awe again, Sirius realised.

After a quick glance in his direction, which Sirius returned suspiciously, Camden wet his lips and asked, "Would you care to dance Charlie?"

"Oh come on, mate," Sirius berated lightly before she could reply. "She's having enough trouble getting to her feet, let alone hitting the dance floor."

But then Charlie said something that completely stumped him. He'd never heard, and never imagined he would hear, such breathlessly romantic words come from her mouth.

"There's nothing I would love more," she sighed, eyes focussed dreamily on Errol's round, bony face.

Sirius slapped a hand across her forehead. She had to be feverish, in the least. Under his hand, Charlie's expression grew disorientated. Her gaze found his and, frowning, she mumbled, "W-what are you doing?"

Sirius' own frown deepened as he took his hand away. "You've got a fever, Charl. Something's wrong. Do you reckon you'll be right to stay here while I go find Madame Pomfrey? I think I saw her at the staff table just before – hey... Hey!"

For Charlie had noticed Errol once more, and her confusion had cleared, to be replaced with a small, loving smile as she moved towards him and delicately took his hand in hers.

"What are you doing?" he asked again, craning to look over her shoulder as she stared, mesmerised at first Errol's fingers and then at his face.

"You're beautiful," Sirius heard her murmur, staring deep into Errol's own besotted eyes.

Sirius' forehead crinkled even further.

"Errol," she whispered, taking the freckled face carefully in her hands and tilting her face towards his.

_She was going to kiss him_.

"Oi!" Sirius yanked her by the shoulder just as their lips were about to meet and she stumbled backwards without so much as a yelp of surprise. Holding tightly onto her arm, Sirius stared hard at Errol and demanded, "What's going on?" He then turned to Charlie. "Is this your idea of a joke? 'Cause this is weird. It's not funny."

"What is the trouble here?"

It was the Russian boy, Rurik. He stood behind Charlie, surveying the group with a frown.

Sirius, confusion bubbling into anger, threw him a glare over his shoulder. "No offence mate, but unless I'm supposed to be calling you sir you really haven't got much authority over here."

Rurik narrowed his eyes and also took hold of Charlie's arm. "You are a friend of Charlie's, yet you are handling her so aggressively."

"I'm not handling her aggressively," Sirius snapped impatiently. "I'm restraining her. Mad witch has developed an unnatural fetish for this one's hands!" He jerked his head in the direction of Camden before focussing on Charlie once more. She was watching him with a concentrated frown, as if she couldn't quite make sense of what he was saying.

"Charlie, can you hear me?"

She nodded very slowly before mumbling, "I don't feel good."

Rurik was talking to Camden. "What is he talking about, Errol?"

"Nothing," said Camden quickly. "She's fine. Black's... probably just jealous – because she fancies me."

"She doesn't fancy you," Sirius snarled. "She's sick! Look at her!"

"What has she been eating?" demanded Rurik, moving to the table. "Is this drink hers?"

"No!" Camden jerked forward just as Rurik was about to pick up a glass of dark liquid. His hand knocked the drink and it spilt across the white table cloth, dying it a deep purple. For a moment, the four of them watched as the confronting colour seeped across the table.

And then Rurik spoke. "Errol, what is that?"

His voice was low and suspicious.

When Camden hesitated to speak, Sirius also looked up, only to see a mesmerised Charlie snuggling into the skinny boy's side and lovingly stroking his hair.

"Did you give that to her?" Sirius demanded, anger building inside. Camden did nothing to discourage Charlie's ministrations.

Flushing a deep red, the boy stuttered with forced confidence, "N-no. It's juice. I found it at the drinks table."

"You're not making sense, mate," Sirius hissed, struggling to ignore Charlie's soft voice as she began to coo in Camden's ear. "Did you give her the drink or not?"

"I... uh..." He blushed a deeper red as Charlie pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Before he even realised, Sirius had stepped forward and yanked the boy out of Charlie's hold, one hand fisted in his hideous dress robes.

"You're really not building a great case for yourself, Camden," he growled.

He had not bothered to keep his voice down, and perhaps that was why Rurik stepped forward and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"You are creating a scene," he muttered lowly. Later, Sirius would notice that indeed there were a few suspicious glances being thrown their way, including from one of the Ravenclaw girls Sirius had danced with. But at that moment, he focussed all his concentration of forcing himself to calm down. Glaring at Camden, he loosened his grip on his front and said, "Come on. We're taking this outside."

* * *

><p>AN: Seedy Errol.

Special thank yous go to slythernprincess, UnperfectButLovingIt, Willow (Haha, you're too kind! And thanks, I'll be needing it!), Night Hawk 97, Nelle07, Hellfire Putten Ninja (or just Putten ;D), Rebakah and Leah (Heh, I'm glad!) for your lovely reviews. In this dreary period of school exams, they are do wonders for my emotional stability! Oh, and apologies go to Rebakah and anyone else who anticipated Charlie having a secret date! Sorry kids, but she remains very much single ... for now ;)

Next chapter: Sirius takes it outside. And also, maybe it's finally time to learn what this mysterious _Nereus Ville _is, hey? And the Willemina, perhaps?

Ehehe - I'm excited.


	9. WhatVille Part I

**Chapter Nine - What-Ville, Part I:**

Sirius led the way through the decorated Great Hall, scowling at anyone who dared look his way. Briefly, he wondered if he should alert the rest of his friends to Charlie's condition, but decided not to upon noticing James busy trying to coax Lily Evans onto the dance floor.

Reluctantly following Sirius was Errol Camden, with Charlie clinging to his arm and expressing her absolute intrigue with his fingernails. A glance at the pair saw Camden's face still tense with intimidation. The sight brought a satisfied smirk onto Sirius' face.

Bringing up the rear was Rurik. Sirius wasn't sure when the Russian student had entered into the situation, but he had more pressing issues to mull over. Like what in Godric's name had Charlie Frazier batting her eyelashes and fawning over a boy – _Errol Camden_, no less – like a lovestruck, airheaded thirteen year old. That is, when she wasn't completely disorientated and feverish...

Sirius marched them into a corner of the empty, cavernous Entrance Hall before turning on Camden and his biggest fan. A small part of Sirius' mind was vaguely delighted when the boy's eyes grew anxiously rounder.

"Charlie!" barked Sirius. She turned to him innocently. He pointed at the floor beside Rurik's feet. "Stand here please."

"But –"

"Now!"

She scowled and, extracting herself from Camden, shuffled into position.

"Good," he muttered, feeling like the supervisor of over exuberant toddlers. "Now you stay with Rurik while I have word with Errol dearest."

"Errol's pretty," she informed him matter-of-factly.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the subject, who gulped. "Yeah," he growled.

As Sirius approached, the trembling Ravenclaw bravely jutted out his chin. The otherwise admirable notion only made Sirius' dislike for him increase tenfold.

"Alright, Camden. Frankly, I'm sick of this shit. It's creepy. So you tell me and you tell me now: _have you slipped Charlie a love potion_?"

"N-no. She's fine."

"Bloody hell, Camden, does she look fucking fine to you?" Sirius snapped viciously, brandishing a finger at Charlie, who appeared to be descending into yet another bout of confusion as the scene unfolded before her. His face very close to Camden's, Sirius continued, "'Cause she doesn't look fine to me, mate! She looks like someone has slipped her a fucking love potion – and a pretty fucking dodgy one at that!"

"I haven't!" insisted Errol, who had flinched at every cuss of Sirius'. "I-It's – it's not dodgy!"

Sirius' glare grew threatening.

Camden spoke tremulously, "Everything – Everything was going fine until you came along." His eyes were shiny. "Y-You know what, Black? You Gryffindors strut about like you founded the place. You're all – you're all arrogant _pricks_! W-Why can't you just mind your own business?

Sirius was furious. "MIND MY OWN BUSINESS?" he repeated acidly. "THIS _IS _MY OWN BUSINESS! _YOU_ – TAKING ADVANTAGE – OF ONE OF _MY _MATES – _IS – MY OWN – BUSINESS_."

And before he knew it, he had the tip of his wand pressing into Camden's chest.

He lowered his voice dangerously. "Now you tell me what you've done to her."

Camden's lips pressed stubbornly together, like a reprimanded child.

"No."

"_Stupefy_."

Sirius had had enough. He watched with satisfaction as Camden's eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

><p>Charlie cried out his name and ran to his side at once.<p>

Sirius watched them darkly for a moment before he felt Rurik draw up beside him. The foreign boy was looking at Camden with a hard mixture of worry and distaste. Sirius suddenly recalled often seeing the two of them together, and realized they must be friends. A tendril of guilt, though very thin, dispersed throughout his gut.

With his eyes fixated on Camden's fallen body, Rurik said, almost drily, "_Now_ what do we do?"

They managed to drag the body into one of Filch's nearby broom cupboards, though it was difficult with Charlie hurling tearful abuse at them. Sirius hadn't seen her cry since the first day of third year, when he and James had thought it might be funny to tell her that Selwyn and Mac had died in a freak magic-carpet ride over the holidays. It was also the day they discovered she'd spent the past two months mastering her Bat-Bogey hex.

Her tears alarmed Sirius, and despite knowing she only cared because of Camden's magic, he guiltily avoided her gaze as he shut the door of the cupboard and turned to Rurik.

"I'm going to fetch Madame Pomfrey," he muttered.

Immediately, Rurik interjected.

"I have knowledge of various 'love' potions, as they are called," he said solemnly. "I think I recognized the purple liquid she was drinking. A kind of love potion, I think. A few tests… I could be certain, I am sure." He cast a glance at the cupboard door, behind which Camden slumped among broomsticks and crates of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover.

"There may not be a need to involve staff," the Russian boy mumbled.

Sirius was exasperated for a moment before nodding, knowing that although the git did deserve whatever punishment the Hogwarts professors dealt him plus some, he could not force Rurik to rat out a friend.

Suddenly, there came a groan from behind them, and Sirius turned to see Charlie holding her head, looking grumpy and dazed. When her palm touched her wet cheeks, she pulled away to stare at them with a sneer.

"Eurgh…"

She looked up at Sirius and Rurik and said dismally, "That wasn't fruit juice I drank, was it?"

* * *

><p>It was almost ten minutes before Sirius ushered Charlie and Rurik into an empty classroom. They were upstairs in the charms corridor, as when they'd tried to move into a room nearer to the Great Hall they'd unexpectedly walked in on Deanna Andromeda passionately kissing with one Selwyn Ackerley ("Selwyn, m'boy!" Sirius had been unable to resist cheering, while Charlie choked on her own breath and Rurik politely averted his gaze).<p>

During the journey upstairs, Charlie sunk back from her state of awareness into one of confusion and now, as Sirius sat beside her on a work table, she turned to him and asked, "Have you seen Errol Camden?"

"Nah," said Sirius, trying not to let his irritation show as it would only make her more confused. "I haven't."

"Hmm," she said softly. "I think he has something of mine. Or I need to ask him a question or something, I can't exactly remember. I just know I need to see him."

Sirius looked pointedly at Rurik and he stepped forward, business-like.

"Charlie would you open your mouth please? I need to extract a sample of your saliva."

"Why?' she said, with immediate suspicion. Understandable, as it was not an everyday request. But then she swayed very slightly and blinked. And then she swore.

"Take it, take it!" she said frantically, before opening her mouth and watching wide-eyed as Rurik's wand levitated a great wobbling mass of saliva out of her mouth and into a flask he was holding.

"You had better find out what's wrong with me," she said as he got to work, pulling out more vials and squinting at her sample in the light. "I think I might hang myself if I'm forced to spend my life fawning over poor Errol!"

"Poor Errol?" repeated Sirius, letting his agitation free now that Charlie had – although temporarily, he suspected – returned to her senses. "That bloke just poisoned you, Charl!"

"Oh, but he didn't mean any harm," she waved.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her, before muttering sideways to Rurik, "I think she's gone under again, mate."

"I haven't!" she cried with a laugh. "Errol's just –" She broke off suddenly and Sirius recognized immediately the now familiar cloud in her eyes.

"Hup!" he muttered drily, more to himself. "There she goes."

She smiled softly and spoke as if just starting the conversation, "Errol Camden is _so _cute. He's _so _amazing, Sirius, I can't even –"

He stopped listening, busying himself in removing his robe and rolling up the sleeves of the white dress shirt he wore underneath.

It wasn't long before Rurik cut off Charlie's rambling with his own knowledgeable tone.

"Judging by her symptoms – the low lust level, the emotional impression and fondness – and from what I could see of that drink at the table – the striking purple colour and thin consistency… It seems as if it may be some _Nereus Ville._"

"What-ville?" said Sirius, hearing his own rude tone but not particularly caring. Charlie had yet again descended into confused, thoughtful silence beside him.

"_Nereus Ville. _Although… the potion is generally only used as a mild kind of ... aphrodisiac, you could say, or general romantic incliner. Any subject-specific ingredients would deteriorate its quality, but would have been a necessary addition if Errol wanted… well, if he wanted Charlie all to himself. And her inconsistent lapses in and out of infatuation do indeed suggest a poor quality of magic… I did not notice any, but perhaps you did observe a particular attraction of hers towards a specific area of Errol's body? His hair, perhaps? …"

But Sirius had noticed a particular attraction. But it certainly wasn't with Camden's hair. _Mad witch has developed an unnatural fetish for this one's hands. _

Wearily, he suggested, "Fingernail clippings?"

Rurik nodded. "Perfect. Oh, yes, you did mention a fetish…"

He went on to explain two options. The first was that Charlie be kissed.

A kiss, he said, was the purpose of _Nereus Ville_. If she were kissed before midnight, the magic of desire would lock onto the kisser as its focus and increase in romantic intensity until, when the clock struck twelve, it would suddenly leave her body. Life would go on as normal. If she _wasn't _kissed by midnight, a regularly brewed _Nereus Ville _would become confused and disturbed, leading to a period of days during which general romantic symptoms could randomly appear and disappear. The lapses, however, are said to be fairly tolerable as they are not too intense and can be easily maintained by the potion-consumer.

_But..._ the fact that Errol had obviously attempted to subject-specify the potion presented a problem. The absence of a kiss in this case would not be as tolerable, seeing as her continued romantic lapses would not be general – they would be completely focussed upon Errol. In other words, it would be entirely ineffective and only mean another three to four days of exactly what she was experiencing tonight.

So if she really did not wish to kiss Errol, as Rurik assumed, then perhaps one of her best options was to kiss someone else. But the risk with that was that subject-specified _Nereus Ville _was no longer a predictable potion; a 'wrong' kiss – that is, not with Errol – could throw the magic into being redirected to the new kisser , or maybe just have the same effect as the absence of a kiss would ... Errol-loving delusions for days.

"How many days?" asked Sirius. "Weeks?"

"No, _Nereus Ville_ – no matter how it is altered –is not powerful enough to last for that long."

_Nereus Ville _was – even when brewed correctly – a fairly light potion. It was not used commonly for this reason; it did not achieve 'satisfying' results. The potion did not ensure a continued relationship of love, nor did it promise any long-lasting feelings. It was a potion for a cowardly man, someone who did not want the guilt and undeniable pretence of Amortentia, but was desperate, careless or greedy enough to manipulate the woman of his desire for a single night. A desperate man might hope in vain that he could impress upon his fancy, in her state of heightened romance and attention, true feelings and that _perhaps _they could lead to love, desire, marriage… But it was unlikely, and very rarely happened.

As reluctant as Rurik was to admit, it was both strange and sad that Errol would choose to give Charlie such a noncommittal potion, even subject-specified. Especially because, another reason it was so uncommon, _Nereus Ville _was a great hassle to brew. It required three petals of the _Willemina _rose, a beautiful purple and red flower which grew on a rare ebony timbered tree.

Which lead to Charlie's second option: find the tree on which the _Willemina_ rose grew… and find its antidotal thorn. It was not an easy task; the _Willemina _tree gave bloom to one flower per season – one flower and one thorn. But the thorn from a _Willemina _tree was invaluable for its ability to remedy all love potions, but for Amortentia; it would provide an instant cure for Charlie without a doubt. No prolonged lapses, nothing.

"So let's go," said Sirius, taking Charlie by the arm. She'd been listening to Rurik's information quietly, trying to understand what was happening around her. She seemed very vulnerable.

"Wait," said Rurik, frowning. "You do not know there's a _Willemina _tree on campus. Errol may have imported the rose."

"He didn't import the rose," said Sirius surely.

Rurik's frown deepened. "But how can you be sure?"

For some reason, Sirius found himself reluctant to explain. In his hesitation, he saw Rurik's eyes flick towards the silent Charlie.

"The spell could potentially be ended by midnight, just with one kiss…"

This annoyed Sirius.

"And what if you're wrong?" he demanded suddenly. "What if what Camden gave her wasn't any kind of _Nereus Ville_? What if it's something else entirely? Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty there are love potions for which a wrong kiss could go seriously wrong – fatally wrong, even."

Rurik averted his gaze. "That is correct," he said. "However –"

"You still want to kiss her, regardless of that?"

"No – you do not – Listen," Rurik composed himself. "We have just over one hour before the clock strikes twelve, and I am almost positive my hypothesis is correct. If she is not kissed by then, she could be like this for up to four days! Of course, I can run my tests with her saliva and confirm that it is _Nereus Ville_, but if a simple kiss is all it takes…" Rurik's gaze shifted to Charlie. He gave her a small smile.

Charlie wasn't so confused that she didn't understand what he was insinuating. She stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks slowly turning red.

"Uh…"

Sirius suddenly found himself very suspicious of Rurik. He was, after all, good friends with the idiot who caused all this.

Once again, he took the stuttering Charlie's arm before turning to Rurik with an unimpressed glare.

"Listen, Franz Ferdinand," he said. "How about while you run your little tests and yeah, _confirm_, that you're not about to kill Charlie –"

"_Kill _me?" she spluttered.

"She and I will go find this Womping Willow thorn, which – as you yourself said – is our _only_ one hundred percent positive antidote."

"If this whole time you've thought you're going to find the thorn at the _Womping Willow –"_

"I KNOW WHERE THE THORN IS," Sirius enforced, feeling his temper mount.

"_Do not _be losing your patience with me, Black," said Rurik hardly. "Especially as it is your own crass actions that have landed us in this situation. Had you not stunned Errol, we would not be having all this trouble!"

"_Your friend was too drugged up on his own perverseness –"_

"Kindly do not insult my friends in front of me!"

The loyal words were something Sirius would have said. Taking a deep breath, he said softly, but firmly, "Look, whether a kiss would work or not, you said yourself that Camden's made this potion unpredictable. Either way, Charlie could end up like this for four days. Unless you'd rather us sit around in silence until you confirm a cure that isn't even fool-proof, I suggest you let us go retrieve the thorn, which is the only one that _is_. I know where to find it, and Charlie does not have much time left."

Again, he took Charlie's arm, but did not move until he saw the resignation in Rurik's eyes.

The Russian boy sighed and turned to his vials.

"Go," he said, waving them towards the door. "Quickly."

* * *

><p>AN: It's a shorter chapter than usual, but simply because I know that there was a fair bit to process. I hope the paragraphs explaining the potion weren't too confusing or convoluted, but if anyone has any questions about the _Nereus Ville_or anything else in this chapter, please do message me and I'll be more than happy to shed some light :)

So how did everyone like protective Sirius? ;) Hahaha

As you may have noticed, this chapter has been Part I, so the next chapter will be Part II of this whole mess! Sirius and Charlie venture out into the grounds to find what Sirius so delicately dubbed the Womping Willow thorn, and might I add, things get deliciously awkward! Here's a little snippet just to keep you on the edge of your seats:

_Silence, as Sirius realized that there he was; bending over Charlie on the floor of the (some might say romantically moonlit) Forbidden Forest, just out of sight of the castle and their partying peers, minutes to midnight, running his hands all over her body._

_Sweet Merlin._


	10. WhatVille Part II

**Chapter Ten - What-ville, Part II:**

Charlie's wrist was starting to hurt, but she didn't dare say so as Sirius guided her swiftly across the moonlit Hogwarts grounds. He hadn't let go since they'd left Rurik in the castle, and she could see that his broad shoulders were tense.

The night sky was illuminated blue with a bright half moon and stars, glittering like jewels, beyond thin wisps of cloud. It was a surprisingly clear night for late autumn at Hogwarts, although the air was crisp and cold.

"Sirius," Charlie said softly, struggling to keep her voice steady as she stumbled behind him.

He didn't respond. The only indication of his attention was the slight loosening of his fingers around her wrist, as if he'd only just remembered he was tugging along a human and not a sledge.

Craning forward to try and get a view of his face, she said, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked gruffly. He seemed not to realise that was she was aware.

"For helping me... For trying to find this thorn."

He looked at her quickly. "Oh," he said, frown clearing a little, "you're back."

She smiled and managed to coax his lips into a reluctantly lopsided grin as well. Quickening her pace so that she drew beside him, and hoping he wouldn't snap at her for her next question, she asked, "Do you really know where to find the thorn?"

"Yeah, Charlie. I do." He looked at her sideways. "You trust me don't you?"

She nodded mutely before she could find her voice; his eyes bore into hers so seriously.

"Yeah," she said honestly. "Yes... of course."

He gave another small smile then.

They approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest and Charlie began to slow. "We're not going in there, are we?"

Sirius smirked at her over his shoulder, his previous tension gone. "Scared of a few trees, Frazier?"

Charlie shot him a glare before eyeing the forest and biting her lip apprehensively. Sirius' smirk faltered for a second and then grew. He walked back towards her, almost invading her personal space. She glared up at him, hating the arrogance that just dripped off him.

"You've never been in the Forbidden Forest?" he asked, in a tone that suggested a distant part of his mind found this very entertaining.

"No." She jutted out her chin unashamedly. "There's a reason it's forbidden."

"Come on." He smirked as his fingers tangled with hers by her side. "I'll even hold your hand."

Charlie rolled her eyes before looking down at their entwined hands. She smiled softly. "Errol's hands are prettier than yours."

Sirius' voice went dry. "Mm, I'm sure they are."

They took about five steps into the imminent shade of the trees. And that was all.

"Here we are," Sirius announced smugly, dropping her hand and looking up at an old, gnarled tree. The thick trunk was covered in rough black bark and the branches, which disappeared high into the canopy above, were adorned with equally dark leaves.

Charlie, who had been walking very closely after, peered up at the looming figure from behind his shoulder. "This is it?"

"Expecting something prettier? More _love_ly?"

Charlie scowled. "Sod off."

Sirius sniggered and looked back at her, doing a double take when he noticed her nose practically brushing the shoulder of his dress shirt. Alarmed, he demanded, "Why are you so bloody close?"

Charlie blushed and hastily took a step back. Sirius cocked his head to the side as he watched her.

"You're actually scared, hey?"

"No."

"But look, you can see the castle from here!" He pointed through the trees to where, indeed, the confronting silhouette and comforting lights of the Hogwarts Castle could be seen through the shadows and mist of the Forest. He laughed, presumably at her 'folly', and draped an arm across her shoulders, pulling her in front of him to face the _Willemina _tree.

"Okaaay," he breathed from behind her, making her neck tingle. "I guess there's only one way to get up there."

"Can't we _accio_ the thorn?"

"Certainly, if you were wanting to pioneer the Just Got Stabbed in the Eye by a Brilliantly Large, Flying Thorn look." He left her side to swing himself up onto the first branch, no regard whatsoever to his expensive trousers and shirt.

"Well, I _am _quite the fashionista ..." Charlie joked lamely as she watched him.

But then, as she fought the urge to rub her naked arms against the cold that swarmed in his absence, she reminded herself that Charlie Frazier was no damsel in distress. If she needed saving, she wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone else to do it.

"And hey," called Sirius from the second branch with a boyish grin on his face. "When was the last time you climbed such a massive tree?"

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped towards the trunk of the Willemina. Slipping off her black heels, she grasped the coarse branch closest to her. After making a futile attempt at jumping and hauling herself up (something she did so easily before puberty), she realized her beautiful black dress, with its tight-fitting bodice and split that went up to her knee, was hardly the most appropriate attire.

"Um, Sirius…" she called uncertainly.

He looked down at her and immediately saw the problem. He grinned before jumping down to the branch in front of her and then swinging to the ground, landing gracefully at her feet.

"Alright," he said authoritatively. "How much do you want this thorn?"

"How much do I _not _want to be publicly lusting after Errol Camden for the next four days?" she countered. Sarcastically; "Yeah, a fair bit, I reckon."

Sirius smirked. "How much do you like this dress?"

Charlie hesitated. Grabbing her shoulders, Sirius dipped his head to look her in the eye.

"Enough to be publically lusting after Errol Camden for the next four days?"

More hesitance. "Well... it is only four days ..."

"Charlie."

She sighed. "Fine. No."

Sirius smirked again and reached down between them. "That's my girl."

There was a sharp crack and Charlie gasped as cool air whooshed between her legs. Her eyes widened accusingly at Sirius before snapping down to stare at her dress. Her mouth dried at what she saw. The knee high split now continued in a jagged tear to her upper thigh, leaving her left leg almost entirely exposed.

Charlie stared at Sirius again, making a sound that came out as something like a high-pitched croak.

Sirius, on the other hand, was looking rather pleased with himself. He gave her a look, as if reminding her that this was all under her consent.

"I'll buy you a new one," he promised.

Climbing the Willemina was easier then, though Charlie was always grabbing the loose bits of her dress and stuffing it between her knees to minimize the amount of exposed skin. Or she just screamed at Sirius to cover his eyes as she executed a rather unladylike move.

The rough bark scraped at their skin mercilessly, and Charlie didn't even want to see to what level her bare back now resembled a cat's scratching post. The black leaves were soft – velvety – and lacked the damp, mulchy smell of the rest of the forest. They instead radiated a fresh, almost sweet scent that Charlie could only couple with that of clean water. But amidst all the clusters of leaves, neither Charlie nor Sirius could find a flower, or its partnering thorn.

Biting her lip, her gaze swept the bowels of the tree one more time from where she perched in its centre.

"This is impossible," she whispered. They didn't have _time_ for this.

"What?" Sirius' voice was soft; a hum in the daunting silence of the Forest.

"Maybe we don't even need the thorn," she said, voice louder. "I mean look at me, I'm fine. Maybe the potion's already worn off."

"I doubt this is the kind of potion that just 'wears off', Charl."

"But Rurik said it was dodgy quality! Maybe –"

"Charlie! Do you really want to take that chance?"

She frowned and watched as Sirius scoured his branch, a few above her, to the right. He was being a right bossy know-it-all that night.

Her gaze became furtive, almost rebellious, before she made up her mind and reached down to pull her wand out of the thin holster strapped around her thigh. The leather carrier was something Charlie didn't even know existed until the last Hogsmeade trip, when Lily had taken her to a small lingerie shop and explained that what Charlie had previously confused for a frightening piece of animalistic underwear was actually a handy, concealed wand holder for the days that you didn't have any pockets. That last line was delivered with a wink that made Charlie's eyes widen.

Now grasping her wand determinedly, she _accio_'d the thorn, her voice barely a breath.

"GAH!" Sirius yelled, and there was a slap as his hand hit his neck.

Charlie's head snapped up in alarm. And to think, she thought she'd mastered the Summoning Charm back in fourth year.

"What? What happened?"

"Calm down," he hissed, and Charlie swallowed impulsively, realizing her voice had bordered on a screech. "Something bit me…"

Breaking her silence, Charlie _did _screech this time. "YOU COULD BE POISONED!"

"No – _shush_ – it's just… What the – Charlie, I _told _you not to summon that bloody thorn! Did I not _specifically say _–"

Charlie stared as Sirius pulled his hand away from his neck, revealing a trickle of blood from where something sharp and triangular protruded.

"_Ohhh_," she exhaled. "Sorry."

He glared at her, and she smiled sweetly in response. Telling him to wait where he was, she holstered her wand and started to climb towards him.

Sirius' eyes widened as he glimpsed the leather strap. "So _that's_ how you do it," he marvelled.

She reached him quickly, having rekindled her ape ancestral instincts, and slapped Sirius' hands away when he tried to extract the thorn himself. She straddled the branch and scooted closer to get a better look.

"Okay," she said, not surprised when her voice fell out in a whisper. She took his head gently in her fingers and tilted it to the side, exposing his neck and the embedded thorn. "Merlin's beard, that's _huge_."

"Yeah," agreed Sirius sharply, "yeah, it is! So you mind getting it out of my jugular vein?"

"God," Charlie grumbled. "You're stroppy when you're in pain."

"It's doesn't hurt."

She yanked the thorn free.

"ARGH!" He jerked away before glaring at her in absolute indignation. "_Ow_!" he yelled pointedly. "_Christ, _a little warning would have been nice!"

"Ohhh," Charlie rubbed Sirius' neck, her expression one of sarcastic concern. "That hurt, did it?"

"You're a little devil," he cried in surprise.

Charlie held the thorn up triumphantly and gave smug little shrug. "A little devil with a Willemina thorn!"

She started to carefully climb down.

When she reached the lowest branch, however, Sirius straightened alertly.

"Hey," he whispered. His brow furrowed and he gazed into the distance. "Do you hear that?"

The sound of flapping, slapping and bad coordination filled the air. Charlie barely got to take one breath before all the air was knocked out of her, and she fell to the ground with a cry.

She landed without grace on her face. Sirius was beside her moments later and rolled her onto her back. He pushed her hair out of her face as she groaned (her previously delicate knot now resembled a bird's nest) and leaned down to peer worriedly into her face.

"You haven't got a concussion have you?" he asked while he began to run his hands gently over her arms and sides. "No broken bones? Can you remember your name?"

"Charlie Frazier," Charlie bit out pointedly while she sat up on her elbows. What a brilliant night this was turning out to be. Really. Just spiffing.

Sirius nodded but didn't stop his ridiculous medical examination of her body. She watched his fingers ghost over her ribcage, prodding gently and then, blushing despite her agitation, her gaze flicked to his ever so close face. He was looking down and his thick lashes looked darker than dark against his cheekbones. Charlie could see the beginnings of stubble starting to form.

"Um. Sirius…"

"Does that hurt?"

"No – I'm fine. It's just… if someone sees us… Well. They could get the wrong idea."

Silence, as Sirius realized that there he was; bending over Charlie, on the floor of the (some might say romantically moonlit) Forbidden Forest, just out of sight of the castle and their partying peers, minutes to midnight, running his hands all over her body.

_Sweet Merlin_.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I was just –" He swallowed and changed tactic pointedly. "Getting off you. _Now._"

"Mmm."

Sirius stood quickly then and helped her up. "But listen, if you're all in one piece," he said, "what was that crack I heard?"

As if on cue, Charlie's wand fell from beneath her dress, landing on the floor in two horrifying pieces. Charlie could almost hear her entire world crashing and burning, along with her dramatic mental scream of '_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO._'

"It's okay," Sirius assured her quickly, reading her pale expression and bending hastily to pocket the two halves. "Ollivander can fix that easily, Charlie. You hear me? _Easily._"

Charlie nodded blankly, wishing she could just sit down and cry. And then she realized something else with a terrible jolt to her stomach and all her misery morphed right back into extreme agitation.

"Oh, _fuck_," she growled.

"What now?"

"What now? What _now_?" Charlie's eyes fluttered close and she felt a headache coming on, and it had nothing to do with a concussion. "I dropped the thorn."

She gave a screech of frustration and then dropped onto all fours, rummaging through the decaying leaves and mulch on the forest floor for the now impossibly small thorn. Muttering and groaning to herself as she frantically searched her surroundings, Charlie had forgotten all about the previous flapping ball that had sent her hurtling to the ground. Until Sirius called her name.

"_What_?" she huffed, angry to be interrupted in her little rant and that he had yet to contribute his eyes to The Thorn Search.

"Look."

He held up a piece of parchment that Charlie barely noticed before her narrowed eyes zoomed in on the fat tawny owl that perched on the branch by Sirius' head. It was the exact branch she had been seated on moments ago.

The owl chirped nervously under her death glare.

"_You_," she hissed, slowly rising from the ground with various leaves, twigs and other forest things dropping from her dress and hair. The owl hopped from one foot to the other, its huge eyes wide and round.

"YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" Charlie exploded, pointing a chipped fingernail at the quivering bird. "I'M GOING TO BE THE LAUGHING STOCK OF THE ENTIRE SCHOOL, WANTING TO SNOG ERROL CAMDEN AND THINKING HE'S THE BEST THING SINCE MY HOGWARTS LETTER! YOU FAT BLUMBERING FOOL OF A BIRD! YOU CALL YOURSELF _WISE_ BUT YOU CAN'T EVEN FLY STRAIGHT–"

"Charlie."

"WHAT - IS IT - _NOW_, SIRIUS?"

He smirked. "Let's not shoot the messenger, hey? Especially when it brings such good news."

Charlie frowned, a little breathless. "What do you mean?" She gathered up the skirts of her dress and stomped, barefoot, towards him, shooting a menacing look towards the owl as she did. The bird flapped its wings anxiously, clicking its beak at her.

"Stop terrorizing the wildlife," Sirius scolded as she came to stand by him. To the owl he said, "Thanks, you can go now."

Watching the bird struggle to become airborne and the flap back towards the castle, Charlie muttered, "He started it."

Sirius showed her the parchment, on which Charlie recognised Rurik's thin, elegant handwriting.

"He says he was right, it is _Nereus Ville _and a kiss will do. But, of course, because he can't be exactly sure about the quality of the potion or any other variations Camden might have attempted, blah da blah, there's still a slight chance that the magic gets thrown – redirected attraction, that sort of thing. But it'll only last a few days at worst. It's not ideal but, I mean we've lost the thorn so... whatever helps, right?"

Charlie didn't like the fluttery feeling accumulating in her gut.

"I suppose..."

A kiss. And it wasn't one hundred percent.

But Sirius was right. Whatever helps. As long as she wasn't lusting after Errol Camden, that deceitful - little - poor - malicious - pathetic - pitiful little boy.

Suddenly, Charlie remembered Rurik's offer. "If_ a simple kiss is all it takes..._" He'd made it pretty clear he was up for it.

Twisting her fingers, she looked to the castle and felt a blush begin to heat up her face and neck. Was Rurik waiting for her to return so she could plant one on him? And if she did, would it really be that simple? Charlie sincerely doubted she would be able to walk away from a kiss with Rurik and still consider it only a cure to a curse. And what if there were side effects? She would fawning over _him_ for days.

_Not that you don't already_, said a snide voice in her head.

Oh, she _so_ did not expect Aurnerie's Farewell Ball to be so bloody dramatic.

Sirius followed Charlie's gaze over his shoulder and then looked back at her drily.

"I'm hurt, Frazier. Really, I am."

Charlie blinked. "Sorry?"

"We have about five minutes until you're stuck with a swooning, cooing, sickening _ooh-Errol's-hands-are-so-fucking-pretty_ infatuation with _Camden_, and you're actually considering running back to snog the Russian boy."

"No – I, uh –"

"Look, Charlie._ I'm_ a boy. I'm right here. I've been your friend for more than six years; it's just a kiss."

Charlie stared at Sirius. He wanted her to kiss _him?_ This was something she hadn't seen coming. Sure, there was a time in fourth year… but that was years ago.

Sirius was looking at her, his face open, honest and coaxing.

_It's just a kiss_, he'd said. They'd been friends for over six years. But surely, wouldn't that make it all the more awkward? …But then, how many times had Charlie heard the girls gossiping about Sirius' out-of-this-world snogging talent? Maybe she should've been grabbing at the chance to experience it for herself, instead of making things more complicated. If anyone was going to make this night even a tad enjoyable, it would be the infamous Sirius Black.

If only it really _was _that simple.

Time was ticking, and Charlie felt her pulse quicken. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that Sirius had taken a step closer. She bit her lip and stared up at him.

"Okay," she said. "Just a kiss, right?"

Sirius smiled wrily and said with sarcasm, "Don't get too excited."

But then he grinned as she smirked and said, "Exactly. Just a kiss. It doesn't even have to last all that long, just enough to break the spell. …And I promise I won't slobber on you." His eyes twinkled at her reassuringly and she smiled genuinely.

"Thanks, Sirius." _For everything._

His smile slipped back into a smirk as he took another step forwards, effectively invading her personal space. Charlie felt her breath come out ragged at the sudden proximity and swallowed. She could smell him, his sweat mingling with the soft scent of his cologne. All she could see now was him as well. If she looked down, she saw his shoes inches from her toes. A little higher, his shiny belt buckle glinted at her from beneath his slightly untucked shirt. If she looked straight ahead, she saw his dirt smeared chemise, one button missing, and his bowtie loose around his neck. But it was when she looked up, and saw his handsome features, untroubled and rather amused, blotting out the forest and the sky and everything surrounding, that Charlie felt her mouth go dry.

"Hey, maybe… Maybe I should have a mint or something first…"

Sirius stared at her drily. "Three minutes and counting Frazier. Cutting it a little close."

"Okay," she said, voice unusually high. "Alright. No pressure."

Sirius chuckled huskily, and his warm breath ghosted over her lips. Her head tilted upwards of its own accord, and he quieted abruptly. Charlie wetted her lips and shivered as Sirius' hand whispered up her arm.

Their breath mingled. Charlie felt herself lean into him, the thin satin of her dress gently brushing the crisp material of his shirt.

Sirius smirked down at her. "Anytime now."

Her temper flared and she almost growled as she lifted onto her tip toes and moved in to quickly close the gap.

But then, at the last possible moment, she pulled away, gasping. She felt as if a torrent of air had flown into her lungs, suffocating her. Her mind and senses were overwhelmed with thoughts of Errol Camden.

"No," she gasped, thinking of how she had just almost betrayed him. "What am I doing?" She turned towards the castle, distraught and consumed with the need to kiss Errol. Only Errol. "I need to –"

"Charlie!" Sirius grabbed her arm as she moved forwards.

"Let go of me," she cried. "I need to find Errol!"

Why was he doing this? Why couldn't Sirius just let her be?

"No!" she gasped. "_No_!"

Sirius' hands were grappling with her waist now as she tried to push him away. Desperately, she stretched her arms out for the shining lights of Hogwarts, where she knew Errol was waiting.

"_Get off me!"_ she screamed, hot tears streaming down her face. "_Get off me, you –"_

Her words were silenced as Sirius grabbed her face and crushed his lips to hers.

Instantly, all thought of Errol vanished – whooshed out her with a force that left her limp. Sirius' thumbs wiped away tears that were already drying as Charlie's mind went blank.

After a few moments, she became aware that he was still kissing her. The initial roughness had given way to a kiss that was gentle and innocent. Their lips pressed together sweetly.

And then it happened.

A tingling heat burned through her body, like a wave of thick, rolling lava, engulfing her and leaving the very tips of her fingers simmering. She was kissing Sirius back, hotly and desperately. Her fingers buried themselves in his soft curls as she feverishly pressed herself against him. Sirius' hand dropped to cup the nape of her neck, while the other compliantly held her close. Charlie sighed. A sinful, breathy sigh.

Her thoughts were frenzied and electric, as if someone had cut a wire and sparks were crackling and flying everywhere. The only thought she could manage consisted of one word; _More_.

His fingers were tracing patterns on her bare, scratched back, making her skin burn despite the cool mist that surrounded them. Sirius' body felt delicious against hers. When he nibbled on Charlie's lip, she gasped before he soothed the spot with a flick of his tongue.

"Sorry," he panted against her mouth, breath hot on her face. And then, moments later, "Reckon that's enough?"

Charlie could barely make sense of his words. She could barely think; she could barely see. She could only feel, and what she felt was driving her mad. The heat. Sirius' touch, Sirius' body, Sirius' lips, Sirius' tongue...

He was still stealing soft kisses from her even as she murmured, "No," _never,_ "Mm – I don't think –"

"Yeah, neither do I –"

She crushed her lips to his once more. She was clutching herself tightly to him, her arms holding him around his neck as if afraid a mere breeze might blow her away. His arms were just as tight around her waist.

In that moment, she couldn't even remember her own name. Maybe she _was _concussed after all.

When finally Sirius pulled away, it was to rest his forehead against Charlie's. Their ragged, panting breaths swirled between them, the only sound in the stillness of the Forest, and the molten lava in Charlie's veins began to cool. She felt as if it were trickling gradually down her insides, disappearing as it fell out the bottom of her gut.

Slowly, she let her eyes flutter open.

Sirius' face was flushed, his grey eyes darkened with lust. His pupils were hugely dilated, and his parted lips swollen. His hair, because of Charlie, was much messier than usual. And it was while she was noticing all this that reality finally hit.

_That was not a kiss between friends. _

Her stomach plummeted.

_Fuck._

Sirius must have realized their little dilemma at about the same time, because he took a deep, steadying breath and pulled away, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. She saw his Adams apple bob before he asked, distant and stoic as if the last two minutes were just delusions that hid what was really a peck on the cheek, "Anything?"

It was a ridiculous question. A question with no purpose other than to present Charlie with a door to the Room of Denial.

Wide eyed, with her heart going a hundred beats per minute, Charlie shook her head. "Nothing."

Sirius nodded, swallowing again. But his voice was slightly hoarse as he said, "Good."

Yeah.

Brilliant.

Hot for one her best mates? Not in the Room of Denial.

* * *

><p>AN: Thoughts? This chapter has been reworked about 9405790345 times, and to be honest it still doesn't feel right. Any comments or tips from anyone would be immensely appreciated.

Sorry to everyone who reviewed Chapter 9 but didn't get mentioned the following update! I was so eager to update, I knew I was forgetting something! So in saying that, big thanks go to everyone who reviewed Chapter 10 and Chapter 9: Pink-And-Green-Jellybean, Night Hawk 97, Nelle07, camie (your review made me smile so much!), mykk47, Rebakah, geekyxchild, slythernprincess, Leila (I'm so glad you're still enjoying it!), Putten, suadade do coracoa, Merry Wanderer of the Night and WasabiWarrior 101!

You guys rock more than rocks do!

Next chapter: The aftermath. And, one of my favourite scenes, the gang gets together to try and fix Charlie's wand :)


	11. Only Sometimes

**Chapter Eleven – Only Sometimes:**

Luckily for Charlie, the next day was Sunday. She missed breakfast – something that tends to happen if one is still unconscious in bed when the clock strikes noon. Although, Sirius had warned that as well as Charlie's body, her mind would also be exhausted after its struggle with the badly brewed _Nereus Ville_. This given, she probably would have missed lunch too if Sara hadn't stormed upstairs and demanded she get out of the dorm and a) find some medication for her unhealthy, _monstrous_ case of snoring that could be heard from the bloody Common Room and b) leave her in peace to finish her Divination chart.

Weary, Charlie rose from the dead – er, her bed – and dragged herself to the bathroom. As she undressed for her bath, she caught herself in the mirror. She straightened before twisting around to expose her scratched back. She grimly surveyed the angry red welts where the branches of the Willeminatree had grazed her before noting some other variously placed, wonderfully purple bruises. Her thoughts wandered back to the previous night and the Forbidden Forrest, and then the cause for her sleep deprivation (she'd been up long after the other girls had fallen asleep thinking about it); the kiss.

In retrospect, Charlie wasn't sure why she'd lied to Sirius. Rurik _had_ warned that redirected attraction could be a side effect. Although, he also said it would only last four days at the most. Maybe that's why Charlie hadn't told Sirius about the lava in her veins. It wasn't that she had stepped into the Room of Denial, more that she felt this was something she could handle on her own. Although… if redirected attraction meant she was going to be snogging Sirius like _that _again, it wouldn't be long before he cottoned on.

The shower didn't rid Charlie of the bags under her eyes, and as she crossed the dormitory to the door, dressed in worn Muggle jeans and a jumper, Sara offered to "fix her up a bit", wand in hand. She declined grumpily (her body still ached), and painfully made her way down the stairs, hoping to cozy up to a cushion, turn into a burrito with the help of a throw rug and doze away the afternoon as well. But upon entering into the Common Room and spotting her friends laughing by the hearth, she immediately saw that this was impossible. Before she could turn around and think about coaxing Sara into tolerating her presence in the dorm, Selwyn called her over.

He pulled her down next to him, and she fell gratefully into his side even though he was comforting her with all kinds of exaggerated maternal nonsense. Her friends teased her about the darkness that hung beneath her eyes, and the lack of colour in her cheeks, and they all assumed it was because Charlie was the most inexperienced partier they'd ever come across. Sirius was the only one who sat in silence, watching with a small smile on his face. She wondered how it was that he was completely unexhausted. Maybe he'd 'fixed himself up a bit', like Sara had suggested. Charlie caught his eye once or twice, and he banished the awkwardness in her mind with a smirk and a twinkle to his eye.

"Wait a minute," Charlie mumbled after James joked about her not being able to hold her liquor. Her voice strained to be heard. She didn't bother lifting her head from Selwyn's shoulder as she sleepily, but confidently addressed him, "Wouldn't the fact that I'm dead after a night of partying, and you lot are all rearing to go just prove that _I_ had a crazy, wild night out, and you all sipped some butterbeer, bit into some bread rolls, maybe participated in a few steps of the _waltz_," this provoked a few guffaws, "and then tucked yourselves in like the obedient little children you are?"

James grinned. "The only reason I was up so early was to indulge in the satisfaction of watching Professor Aurnerie, with all his luggage, cross the Hogwarts grounds for the last time."

While the group all enthused about how pleasurable the moment must have been, Sirius came to sit next to Charlie. He leant back against the sofa and then turned to grin at her, producing her snapped wand out of his pocket.

"Here," he said, as Charlie lifted her head off Selwyn's shoulder to eye the brittle halves sorrowfully. "Didn't get a chance to give them back to you last night."

Charlie couldn't help but smile as she accepted the wand from him, thinking of the bizarre circumstances that had broken it.

"Bloody hell!" Peter's eyes were huge across the circle. "What did you two get _up to_ last night?"

Charlie froze guiltily.

"Relax, Pete," said Sirius. "It snapped when she fell out of a tree, that's all."

And thankfully, falling out of a tree was the least mischief anyone was expected to get up when the Marauders were concerned. No one questioned them further.

"I can fix that if you want," Remus offered, nodding towards the outline of Charlie's broken wand against her hip pocket.

She looked at him with awe. "Really? Would you?"

"Yeah. Come up to the dorm after lunch and I'll have a crack at it."

On the way to lunch that day, Charlie saw Rurik studying beneath a window in the corridor. When he looked up and noticed her she felt a blush spread across her face. After receiving his letter the last night and kissing Sirius, Charlie had gone straight up to her dormitory –she hadn't seen him since they'd left him in the Charms classroom and still didn't know whether he had been expecting to be the one to kiss her. Either way, it was humiliating that he'd seen her in such a pathetic state under the _Nereus Ville_.

But bumping into Rurik was better than bumping into Errol, so she left the group and approached him with an apprehensive smile. He stood as she neared.

"Charlie, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Thank you, Rurik. For everything – all your help last night, with the testing, and giving up your night at the ball… I can't believe – I mean, it was ridiculously embarrassing, I don't know what – I just… Thank you so much. Thanks for caring, really."

She gave him a flustered, genuine smile and he smiled gently in return.

"I do care about you," he said, eyes warm.

Charlie didn't know what to say. Although she opened her mouth, it was a second or two before any noise came out.

"I –"

"Charlie!"

It was Mac. With her head sticking out of the Great Hall, she called frantically, "Come quickly, they've made meatballs!"

Glad for the excuse, Charlie shot Rurik an apologetic smile and said once more, "Thank you." And then, "Bye!" before she scurried off to lunch.

She slid onto the bench at the Gryffindor table between Mac and Sirius and tucked into the meatballs. They were her favourite Hogwarts dish and she was glad for something to take her mind off Rurik.

Around her, Mac and the boys were teasing Selwyn about his night with Deanna Andromeda.

"Had her pressed up against a wall, he did!" crowed Sirius, while Selwyn flushed a bright red.

"Aw come on, big brother, have a little more class!" moaned Mac, as the other boys jeered and slapped him approvingly across the back.

"Look," said Selwyn loudly, "It's not like that with her. I _am _serious about this girl, and I _am _treating her with more class –"

Selwyn suddenly broke off, because he'd noticed what had also distracted everyone else. Across the table, Charlie was rapt as she very slowly, very intimately wiped a smudge of meatball sauce from the corner of Sirius' mouth. Everyone, including Sirius himself, stared at her as her thumb gently grazed the length of his lower lip before slowly pulling away.

"_What… the…_" breathed James before Sirius suddenly seized a napkin and hastily wiped the meatball sauce from Charlie's thumb. She looked very dazed.

"Charlie," Sirius hissed hoarsely. "Come with me."

And with that he leapt from the Gryffindor table and strode off towards the exit. Charlie glanced at them all guiltily before hastily following suit.

Dumbstruck, they watched them leave.

* * *

><p>"You're a liar," said Sirius, turning to her with a smirk once they were in the Entrance Hall, his eyes alight with the revelation. "That kiss <em>did <em>redirect the _Nereus Ville_! You fancy me, don't you?"

Charlie looked shamefully down at her hands and grumbled, "Only sometimes."

Sirius shook his head, looking like he wanted to laugh. The whole thing _was_ sort of ridiculous.

"We're lucky these side effects are only going to last a couple of days," he said, resting his hands atop his head. "But Merlin, I _knew…_ You were _all over me _last night!"

Charlie stared at him in affront. "Yeah well I didn't hear any complaints from _you_!"

At this, Sirius grinned widely. "That'd be because I didn't have anything to complain about."

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him.

After lunch, they followed the group up to the boy's dormitory. They'd all accepted Charlie's sleep deprivation – coupled with her uncanny taste for the Hogwarts meatballs – as an excuse for her disturbing behaviour ...Something she couldn't quite decide whether she was happy about. Either way, now that her attraction had officially been redirected, she was going to have to be careful to avoid such public displays of her _Nereus Ville _lapses. Both she and Sirius decided it would be best if her friends didn't learn of the last night's events; it would only open the door to an infinite stream of mockery and innuendo neither of them wanted to put up with. They weren't sure how hard a secret to keep it would prove to be, but just in case, Sirius agreed not to stand too close to Charlie over the next few days. Hence, as they all trooped into the circular dormitory, Sirius sat on his own bed by the door as Charlie crossed the room to take a seat on Selwyn's.

Once they'd all settled, Remus approached Charlie and ceremoniously held out his hands for her wand. She placed the pieces in his palms with amusement and he bowed his head in return.

"It's not a bloody Samurai sword, Remus," said Mac witheringly from over his shoulder. "Get on with it."

He made a face at her and then went to stand in the centre of the room. Holding the two halves of wand before him for all to see, he cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to Charlie with a solemn, superior expression.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Yes, Remus?"

He _ahem_'d dramatically and then, "The properties of this wand?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ash wood, Unicorn hair, eight and a half inches."

"That's a fairly short wand."

"I've been told it's not the size that matters. It's how you use it."

"Exactly!" cried Pete, beaming from ear to ear at Charlie as if she'd just declared the two of them soul sisters.

"Alright," Remus rotated his head dramatically and a few of them flinched at the sound of his neck cracking. Very lightly, he tapped Charlie's broken wand with his own. "_Remonts zizlisus ludzu!"_

The pieces quaked in his hand and the breath caught in the throats of all in the room. Charlie leaned forward anxiously, almost falling off the edge of Selwyn's bed.

But alas, the wand stilled in Remus' palm and though they waited a good few seconds, nothing more happened.

"What kind of spell was _that_?" Selwyn retorted from his own bed, clearly unimpressed.

"A polite, Latvian one," Remus sniffed loftily.

"My turn!" Sirius leaped up from his bed and snatched the brittle halves from Remus' hand. After an initial cry of protest, Remus disappointedly retreated to the edge of his bed but not before apologizing to Charlie for his 'complete failure'.

Being extra cautious, Sirius placed the wand fragments a few feet from him. He straightened his shoulders and was raising his wand when James said, "Bloody hell, Padfoot, you're not seriously considering –"

Pete cottoned on. "I didn't think even _he _was that stupid!"

Selwyn; "Don't do it Sirius –"

"_Reparo!_"

A gust of wind blew Charlie's hair back so hard she thought it would rip right out of her scalp. There was a chorus of wince-inducing _cricks_ as the wind, shooting from the butt of his wand, whistled up Sirius' sleeve and through his clothes, effortlessly bursting the stitching.

The moment passed and the wind stilled. Charlie opened her eyes to a transformed dormitory. The hangings on the beds were tangled and loose parchment floated to the stone floor eerily. The students in the room righted themselves with awe, smoothing down their hair and staring about the room in amazement. By some miracle, Sirius still stood, frozen in the epicentre. His hair stood up at all angles and his eyes were so glazed and open for a second Charlie feared his eyelids had blown off. Various parts of his clothing were ripped and hung delicately from his frame. As they watched, one of his shoelaces burst into flames, catching onto the hem of his trousers.

"… Is he dead?" Mac gaped at the statue that had once been their friend.

Sirius shuddered to life and inhaled one raspy breath.

"Note to self;" he announced shakily, "leave wand repairs to the professionals."

* * *

><p>Monday morning came and as Charlie walked to her first lesson, Potions, she was feeling a lot lighter. Sirius was keeping out of her way as promised and it felt almost as if Saturday night hadn't happened at all. That is, until she came face to face with Errol Camden.<p>

"Charlie," he wheezed in his uncertain pre-pubescent voice. "Hi." His eyes, huge and swimming behind his glasses, were darting around haphazardly and landed on her face for no more than a second.

"Hello Errol…" She also avoided his gaze uncomfortably.

It wasn't that she absolutely loathed the boy now that he had taken advantage of her and given her a dishonourable potion, effectively ruining her entire night – she had just lost a profound amount of respect for him. And admittedly found him a great deal creepier.

"Charlie, I apologise from the bottom of my heart," Errol gushed. "Truly! Rurik told me what happened after – er – after Sirius stunned me. ... I have this awful crick in my neck now from lying in that broom cupboard – really!..." He stretched his neck and, true to his word, it cracked loudly. But Charlie wasn't interested. Noticing her expression, he said hastily, "I didn't mean to cause any harm! You were in no danger, I promise, I just wanted ... I wanted you to notice me. For once."

Charlie could say nothing. She only stared at him, feeling sorry.

"Forgive me," he said softly.

She licked her dry lips and stared at him before carefully nodding.

"I do," she said. "I do forgive you. I know you didn't mean any harm. But... I can't look at you the same anymore Errol... I'm sorry. Having me drink _Nereus Ville _was not the only way to get me to notice you. But it was one of the most pathetic."

Errol looked sick. As she turned to leave, he suddenly blurted, "I think I love you!"

She frowned. "You barely even know me."

Again, she turned away from him but Errol lunged forward and desperately caught her hand. "Charlie –"

"I think you should let her go, Camden."

Sirius had appeared behind Charlie and was fixing Errol with a hard stare. The smaller boy swallowed and reluctantly dropped Charlie's hand.

"I was just apologizing," he mumbled.

"No," corrected Sirius, "you had finished apologizing. Charlie was just leaving."

"Sirius stop it," murmured Charlie, flicking him a disapproving side glance. He was blatantly intimidating Errol and although Charlie wasn't too chipper with the Ravenclaw either, she didn't think he deserved the harsh edge to Sirius' tone, or the cold glint in his eye.

Sirius ignored Charlie.

Inclining his head very slightly towards the bustling crowd of the halls, he said firmly, "Get going Camden."

"Sirius!" hissed Charlie, but it was no use; beet red and fidgety, Errol excused himself and disappeared hastily into the crowd.

Charlie turned crossly to Sirius. "What was that?"

"What was what?" He didn't meet her accusing gaze, instead hitching his book bag higher on his shoulder and heading down the corridor. Charlie scurried after him.

"Since when are you so rude to Errol Camden?"

"Since the git poisoned you, Charlie – or do you not remember that?"

"Of – of course I remember! But he didn't mean any harm, Sirius, he had good intentions!"

"With which the road to hell is paved!"

"Oh, Errol's going to _hell _now? Brilliant! Yes, right, you just go ahead and condemn him to eternal slavery, Sirius. You go right ahead and do that."

"Come off it, Charl," he said tiredly.

"No, you come off it! A few more seconds and there might've been sodding death threats flying around!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid. ...'Sides, I've already delivered all my threats," he added under his breath.

Charlie scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

When he didn't reply, Charlie sighed. "Sirius..."

He looked her squarely in the eye. "Look, I don't know what you've got in mind, but I didn't bloody rough him up or anything. I just... had a little chat with him. Man to man. After breakfast yesterday."

Charlie scoffed. "Little chat." And then again, "_Man _to _man_."

"Well; man to pathetic tosser."

Now it was Charlie's turn to roll her eyes, though she couldn't help a light grin. She scrutinized Sirius out of the corner of her eye before deciding, "You boys are all a bit loony, if you ask me."

"But nobody did ask you did they?" grumbled Sirius, only half joking.

She poked her tongue out at him. "Don't get stroppy with me, I didn't ask for you to go all White Knight."

Sirius mumbled something that sounded like "Neither did I", but when Charlie asked, he insisted he'd said nothing.

"Come on," he said, holding aside a tapestry so that Charlie could slip into the narrow hallway that ran beyond it, "I'll walk you to Potions."

"Listen," he began as they emerged into the sunlit Potions corridor, "I did some research on fixing broken wands – which I probably should've done _before _I tried _reparo _on yours..."

Charlie laughed. "Let me guess; it's impossible."

He nodded with a grimace. "Pretty much, yeah. We could go and get another one for you over the Christmas holidays. From Ollivander's."

Charlie smirked at him, feeling a funny tickle in her stomach. "We?"

"Well yeah," Sirius shrugged. "I'll come with you."

She smiled at him with amusement as they drew up outside Charlie's classroom. They were going to go to Ollivander's to buy her wand – together. On the holidays. Just the two of them.

Sirius suddenly narrowed her eyes at her.

"Stop it," he said shortly.

She frowned at once. "Stop what?"

"You're reading into this. It's that bloody potion! You think – I'm not – It's not a _date_, Frazier."

Her smile widened. In actual fact, it wasn't the potion. Her mind was still very much aware; there was no lava in her veins; there was no swooning. But he'd said _we_, and she found it amusing.

"You can pick me up at noon," she teased before pulling open the door to her classroom and happily flouncing inside.

* * *

><p>AN: Not gonna lie, I'm fond of this chapter :) But listen, I was toying with the idea of giving Errol a split lip courtesy of our protective friend Sirius (especially after a few of you expressed enthusiasm towards some sort of Errol-bashing), I even started writing the scene in, but... it just didn't have fit. If Sirius was going to get all rough and testosterone-pumped then he most likely would have clocked Errol in the Entrance Hall rather than stunned him. He has gone and 'delivered his threats' of course - but I think to actually go after Errol just to punch his lights out wouldn't be in Sirius' character. He's protective, yes, but not overly violent.

Oh, and another thing I thought I should address as, though it was Willow who brought it to my attention, I'm sure many of you are wondering: "If Sirius is such a ladies' man, why hasn't he tried to be more than friends with Charlie before now? He certainly seems to really want her!" Well, my friends, Sirius did fancy Charlie quite a bit back in the day (fourth year), as was mentioned in chapter ... five, I think? But the poor boy was only fourteen then, and Charlie was already a part of his close friendship circle, and a good friend of his. The way I see it, Sirius was too bunny to make a move. He didn't want to ruin the friendship, and, let's face it, at 14, he hardly had the confidence he has now (and will continue to accumulate over the years). So, poor fourteen year old Sirius stifled his feelings for what he thought was the greater good, and spent the next couple of years doing just fine until just over a week ago when he saw Charlie in the dress at Madame Malkins' and all those feelings started to stir. And then, not soon after, he found himself with an avid Charlie snogging his brains out and - well - he enjoyed it ;) Besides, he is, after all, a teenage boy, regardless of his feelings.

So, I hope that explains why Sirius hasn't tried anything with Charlie before now, and thanks to Willow for asking the question! :)

Also, I just want to ask; how are you guys feeling at this point in the story? About everything; the plot, the characters, what's ahead ... ? I hope everyone's enjoying it.

Special thanks as always to everyone who reviewed (Oh, and I've loved seeing new names in my inbox!): Willow, WasabiWarrior 101, Night Hawk 97, slythernprincess, UnperfectButLovingIt, Leila, Nelle07, Rebakah and Beautiful-Oblivion-xxx! And of course, everyone who favourited or put The Willemina on alert. I love you all, really!

And (gosh I've been rambling on for a while!) things to look forward to in the next chapter: Slughorn's planning a little shindig (as he does), Charlie suspects things aren't as peachy as they'd seemed, and the Return of Super Sirius (though he never really leaves, does he?)

Update in a couple of days, do leave a review! :)

- the punchline.

P.S. Sorry for blabbering on so much.


	12. Well Observed, My Boy!

**Chapter Twelve – Well observed, my boy!**

"Professor Vector is so lovely," smiled Charlie as she and James walked out of Arithmancy together. A shiny pink sticker glinted on her chest, reading WELL DONE in bright green letters – a well-earned trophy for completing her chart correctly, Charlie thought.

"Mm," agreed James, raising his eyebrows in enthusiasm he nodded. He too sported a bright sticker, though his was metallic blue and read YOU'RE A CHAMP. "Definitely an improvement." He smirked.

Charlie laughed at his expression. "You, my friend, are _far _too smug."

"Excuse me?" A Hufflepuff approached the pair with a quill and parchment in hand. Charlie recognized her as a Prefect. Pushing her large, thin-framed glasses further up her button nose and speaking in a rather pompous tone, the girl asked, "You're in Gryffindor, aren't you? Charlie Frazier?" After receiving a wary nod she continued, "Are you staying in the castle over these Christmas holidays, or going away?"

Charlie replied that she was going away, and the girl appeared to tick something on her scroll of parchment in a manner of utmost professionalism. Finally she seemed to notice James, who had been standing patiently beside Charlie waiting for the exchange to end.

"Oh!" the girl started falsely, smiling with a sweetness of which Charlie had not received a speck. "I didn't see you there, James!"

Charlie rolled her eyes. _Here we go._

"I'm just confirming who's staying at the castle over the holidays..." the Prefect said in an enthusiastic, flustered manner, waving the roster for emphasis. "Just as you asked!" Another smile, a bit of a giggle.

James nodded with an amused sort of grimace, his eyes twinkling behind their frames. "I see that, Kimberly... Well done."

"Yes," she gushed. And then, "Oh – but of course, I don't need to ask _you_!" Giggle.

James nodded again, his hands tucked into his pockets and a same smile gracing his thin lips. "Of course not."

"- Because I already have that _down_," another wave of the paper.

"Yes."

" – Because you've already _told_ _me_," giggle.

"Yes. Yes I have. I've told you."

"That you're going _home_." Flash of the teeth. Face the colour of a telephone booth.

"Yes," nod. "Yes I am."

"So, um –" The girls smile widened, showing off her pretty, straight teeth. And she giggled.

"Yes." James rocked on the balls of his feet.

More giggles. "I should – "

"Be going now?" Charlie finished, lest she say 'giggle some more'. "Yes, that would be brilliant."

She grabbed James by the sleeve and tugged him down the hallway.

"What can I say?" James said in response to Charlie's agitation, looking ridiculously self-satisfied. "The ladies love me."

After Charlie scoffed her disagreement, James said, "Hey, you're coming to the banquet this year, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

James' parents always invited guests over to their beautiful lakeside estate for a Christmas banquet. Apart from their close friends, mostly fellow Pureblood families, James was also allowed to invite his school friends. Charlie had been attending since third year – sans her family, of course. Unfortunately, the rest of the Fraziers were still too uncomfortable in the magical world to spend an entire evening with a crowd who thought vacuum cleaners were complicated potions used to sanitize some sort of stubbornly unhygienic creature.

James nodded, satisfied. "Good. And you'll be staying at mine for the last week? My mum bloody adores you, you know. You and Sirius. She'd gladly swap me for the two of you."

Charlie laughed. "I'm not sure. I'll owl you if I can."

The next class was Potions. Towards the end of the lesson, Charlie was busy scribbling down notes on the potion she and Rurik had brewed. Errol was avoiding Charlie like the plague and was seated at the very back of the classroom.

Suddenly her peripheral vision was all but filled by Professor Slughorn's waistcoat and all its bulging contents.

"Rurik, my dear boy!" The large man exclaimed, making Charlie grimace as his stomach jiggled in the corner of her eye. She threw down her quill and straightened, pretending to busy herself tidying the worktable rather than sit and tolerate the unattractive sight.

"Yes, Professor Slughorn?" Rurik replied politely.

"I'm hosting a little get-together after Christmas, a Halloween party if you may, and I wanted to inform you that I expect your presence!" The man chuckled at his own forwardness.

Rurik smiled, though looked a bit put off by the Professor's jolly tendencies. "Of course," he said. "But... Halloween was more than a month ago, sir."

Slughorn tipped back his head and laughed whole-heartedly. "Well observed, my boy! Very well observed!" He sobered and with a rueful smile, told Rurik, "No... Well, you see, Professor Dumbledore actually approached me during that time and warned me against throwing my annual little shindig – in a friendly manner of course – and more out of curiosity than anything, I complied. Although I'm not sure if you noticed my extra little touches on the decorations for the Halloween Feast? Yes, of course you did. Anyway, we then had of course that whole debacle with poor Edmund Aurnerie, and his farewell ball... And well, things have been a little hectic about Hogwarts lately, haven't they son?"

Rurik nodded and opened his mouth to say something but Slughorn ploughed on, obviously seizing the chance to tell the story to a willing listener. "Yes – and of course, I couldn't forget the party altogether – not with all these beautiful witches and wizards awaiting its annual hosting! I wouldn't be surprised if they rallied together a protest of some sort if I had, they just love my parties that much! Heh. Why, just the other day Georgina Hathaway – you must know of her, grandfather is Gregory Hathaway? Designed a major improvement to the Gringotts vaults? No? Well, she confessed to me just the other day, that my Halloween party was the highlight of her every year at Hogwarts! Now imagine the disappointment she and every other student like her would feel if I failed to keep it running. For the students' sake, I say!"

Professor Slughorn looked as if he could continue his dictatorship until the Hippogriffs came home, but Rurik skilfully interrupted.

"Indeed Professor. So... when we come back, then?"

Slughorn's eyes brightened enthusiastically. "Yes, yes! – And you're welcome to bring a date!" he added quickly, eyes sliding suggestively to Charlie. "Surely a young, handsome man such as yourself won't have any trouble finding equally beautiful company..." He winked at her presumptuously before turning back to Rurik. "See you there, my boy!"

The bells sounded just as the professor was bustling off towards Lily Evans' table.

"So, Charlie..." Rurik began as they walked through the corridors. Now that classes were over for the day, students were hurrying to locate their friends. Charlie and Rurik held their books tight against their bodies as they weaved through the masses.

"Yes?" She winced as someone shouldered her.

"What is Slughorn's party usually like? You have been before, haven't you?"

"Um, yeah... I've been a couple of times," she nodded as they crossed the east overpass towards the courtyard. "It's usually pretty great. People turn up in these brilliant costumes. In fifth year, I remember Remus was a werewolf. It was _really _good and Dumbledore thought so too – he kept commenting on Remus' attention to detail and all that..."

She trailed off as she spotted her friends all gathered around a stone bench in the courtyard. James was a little ways off, talking to Lily. Charlie could tell by the way the gang kept laughing and shooting them looks that they were teasing the shit out of his efforts. Charlie grinned. She and Rurik had stopped walking now, the crowds having lessened quite a bit.

As she watched, Mac, who stood with her back towards Charlie, shifted a little and revealed Sirius, who sat in the middle of the bench with his eyes alight in humour. Suddenly, his gaze flicked to the large clock face situated above the courtyard and he excused himself before slipping past Mac and loping easily across the yard towards a group of girls. His school robes discarded, he was dressed in a dark grey sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and casual blue jeans. He looked good. But then again, didn't Sirius Black _always_ look good?

He approached the girls and they parted to include him in their little circle. He had on his boyish grin, which they returned – some friendly, some flirty. The girl he addressed was in sixth year, and Charlie recognised her as a Hufflepuff Chaser. The two moved away from the gaggle of girls and the pretty Hufflepuff leaned comfortably against a nearby pillar. Or was it _seductively?_

The two chatted effortlessly, Sirius looking laid-back and utterly edible. The girl laughed at something he said, her blonde hair shining in the filtering sun.

"Charlie?"

"Hmm?" Her gaze snapped back to alertly meet Rurik's. "Sorry, I..."

Rurik glanced over his shoulder, where – much to Charlie's wonderment – Sirius was passing an envelope to the Hufflepuff.

Her grasp on her books tightened as she remembered: Sirius had dated that girl last year. It had been short – only a couple of weeks if her memory served, so what was he doing talking and handing her secret letters _now?_

"Maybe I should ask you later..."

In that split second, Charlie mentally slapped herself. Stupid, _stupid Nereus Ville_! She wouldn't give a rat's arse who Sirius was talking to if it weren't for that bloody potion and that sodding kiss! She forced herself to push all agitated thoughts away and focus on Rurik, but he'd already hitched his carry bag higher on his shoulder and made like he was about to leave. Shame swept through her.

"No –" she cried guiltily. She stepped forward, hand shooting out to grab him and then thinking better of it. "I'm sorry," she said genuinely. She offered him a smile, "What were you asking, again?"

Rurik's shoulders slumped in defeat, but he was smiling a bit. "About Slughorn's Halloween party. He said I could bring a date. Would you –"

Bloody hell. He was hugging her. _They were hugging_!

Why, in the name of Merlin's gucky toe jam, would Sirius be hugging his ex-girlfriend?

Charlie gulped. Not that it was any of her business.

Her fingers hurt from clamping onto her books but she didn't release any pressure. _You need to STOP, Frazier_, she told herself with the authority of a military commander. _This isn't real. You ARE NOT jealous, because you ARE NOT developing feelings for Sirius Black._

"I'm sorry, Rurik, but I just realised I need to be somewhere else," she told the poor boy, who was looking half amused and half bewildered.

"Ah – of course," he stuttered and then grinned. "I will...talk to you later?"

"Yes!" Charlie's eyes were wide with the promise. "Definitely."

And then she ran in the direction of the library.

Rurik had said that if any side effects were to ripple from her kiss with Sirius, then it would only last a couple of days, tops. After that first meatball-sauce-wiping incident, those first few days had been fairly tolerable. Her only inconvenience was the occasional dreamlike state she fell into when she let herself stare at him for too long, or if someone mentioned Sirius in a positive light and her mind instantly swerved off into a stream of swooning Sirius-praise. But he had stayed for the most part out of her way (except when she'd been in the library one time and he'd deliberately crowded her against a shelf just to see her cheeks go all red and flustered) and her friends were completely oblivious.

But now they had passed the "couple of days" mark – they had even passed the couple of weeks mark! Both Charlie and Sirius had already agreed that everything was back to normal – why, just that morning they'd sat together and shared a completely sensuous-less breakfast. But here she was, running away from him because there was a significantly green monster suddenly pacing her insides. And that wasn't something she was daft enough to ignore.

Rather than confess her sins to Rurik – he had already helped more than enough, and Charlie hated to drag him back into her embarrassing situation – she ran to seek facts from the one source she knew would never fail her: books. Big, leather bound intelligent _books_.

She found one that sounded promising and took it to a nearby study desk. Placing it carefully on the worn, graffitied surface and dropping her own workbooks on the floor beside, she scooted her chair in close.

The book was moderate in size, but ridiculously heavy. It had a deep green cover, with an embossed title of faded gold. _The Willemina and all its Properties._ Charlie took a breath, opened it, and began to read.

But it was no use. Ironically, the library was the last place Charlie could ever study. It was so _quiet_... _too _quiet – as opposed to the roaring laughter and loud conversations with which she usually surrounded herself. And it was dark, too. Whatever the weather outside, there was always some part of the library that managed to remain dank and murky. Even in the section she sat now, all that kept it lit was a few little oil lanterns! And on top of the quiet, dark atmosphere, Charlie could never shake the feeling that wherever she was, someone was watching her from behind a shelf of dusty books.

She shuddered. And then, sighing, regathered her belongings and left the library.

* * *

><p>The pier on the Black Lake was where Charlie spent the weeks leading up to her O.W.L.S. She went down to the very end with all her books, spread them out around her and – provided no one splashed her with water or tried to pull her in – studied like there was no tomorrow. She loved the sound and sight of the cool water lapping against the pier, coupled with the whispers of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, the distant shouts of laughter from students and the beautiful view of the Hogwarts grounds. It all provided the perfect ambience to calm her and set her mind into focus.<p>

So with that memory in mind, Charlie marched across the sloping lawns with her precious volume held securely in her arms. As she went, questions whirled frantically in her mind. When had the _Nereus Ville _resurfaced? Because this... this jealousy – it _was _the _Nereus Ville, _wasn't it? Of course it was. But then, had it ever really left? She thought hard about the past two weeks and then realised with a sickening jolt: just earlier that week, Mac had been telling her about a beater for the Chudley Cannons – the young girl's current fancy – and mentioned how she would not think twice about snogging the living daylights out of him. Sirius had then climbed in through the portrait whole and BAM – Charlie was reminiscing about the feel of his body against hers, and the heavenly flick of his tongue over her bitten lip...

Sirius had approached, teased "Dreaming of me, Frazier?", and she had, of course, leapt up with guilty cheeks the colour of Lily Evans' hair, babbled some nonsense about the time, checked her wrist, which was devoid of any timepiece, shouted "Gosh, I'm late!" and tried to run out of the Common Room, only to trip over the portrait threshold, hit her head on the stone floor outside and be knocked unconscious.

Oh, Sweet Mother of all Founders, how could she not have recognised that for the tragic lapse into _Nereus Ville _state that it was? Even as she sat in the Hospital Wing, being told that she'd managed to concuss herself, Charlie had not made the connection with the potion. But now it was clear as day.

So what did this mean? Had Rurik been wrong about the kiss? Had it worked at all? Was she going to be attracted to Sirius for the rest of her life? How was she ever going to get married? Unless... Would Sirius agree to marry her?

She hyperventilated as she walked, her brow furrowed and an intense scowl gracing her lips. She held the _The Willemina and all its Properties_ tightly to her chest as her Gryffindor scarf flapped in the breeze.

A familiar laugh suddenly cut through her panicked thought stream and intuitively, Charlie sought out its employer. It was James. She spotted his overgrown black hair easily; he was lying beneath the beech tree. He and the rest of the Marauders were sprawled comfortably at its base, holding what appeared to be light conversation. But as Charlie reached the pier and again turned her distracted gaze to them, she noticed Remus' slight frown and realised that perhaps their conversation wasn't as light as she'd thought. James was staring up at the canopy of the tree, ripping up blades of grass and letting them fall down to gather on his sternum as he spoke. Pete was sitting cross legged, hunched and, as usual, looking rather unsure of himself.

Charlie had often wondered – as cruel as the thought was – why Pete was the fourth Marauder, and not Selwyn. But now Charlie just put it simply down to the plain fact of Selwyn's popularity. The boy was very friendly with several Ravenclaws, was liked by more Hufflepuffs, and even some Slytherins didn't think he was too bad. Mac held the same trait as well. Neither of them were tied down to a small circle of friends – they effortlessly wandered between many. Social butterflies. Pete, on the other hand, was just happy to be accepted by his fellow dorm mates.

But that didn't mean that Charlie wasn't fond of the tubby teenager. It would make her smile to think of the delighted laughs that seemed to come so easily to Pete, and his bright, admiring eyes. He reminded her of her cousin Jeremy when he was a child.

As Charlie continued up the wooden pier, her attention, despite her previous intense state of panic, moved distractedly to Sirius. His back was against the tree trunk, with one of his legs bent and tucked beneath the other outstretched one. His eyes were downcast and his jaw seemed hardened, even when he spoke with such ease. As if sensing her eyes on him, Sirius' travelled upwards until they locked on hers. She felt her face heat at having being caught watching him, but his expression showed none of the expected arrogance or amusement. Instead, Sirius gave her a small but warm smile and raised a hand in greeting. Still blushing, Charlie shyly waved back.

And two seconds later, she was falling through the chilly air.

Later, Charlie would realise she had wandered off course. She'd wobbled dangerously at the edge of the pier and tried to pull off some fancy footwork to regain her balance. A spectacular idea, since fancy footwork had always been her forte.

... Not.

Charlie screamed as she dropped, screamed until her voice was silenced by the crash of her body piercing the water.

The icy fluid filled her ears and blocked her senses. Her eyes opened to the shady green of the Black Lake, and – before she could stop herself – she exhaled her breath in a hiss. The freezing water seemed to seep into her very bones. She watched the bubbles of air rise mesmerizingly and for a moment, everything was peaceful. Charlie's hair fanned out about her face, and her robes were weightless on her body.

Then something slimy slipped against her ankle, and fear racked her body. Her lungs were suddenly screaming for air; she could feel the panic rising. Gritting her teeth, she kicked frantically upwards but it seemed she was sinking faster than she was rising. Whatever had caressed her ankle was now tangling around her shins. Long, slippery – tentacles? – curled around her legs. As her vision started to go hazy, Charlie's mind following suit, she groggily realised the book in her arms was weighing her down. Just as she was letting the huge volume slip from her numbing fingers, a large shadow blocked the filtering light...

Her eyes fluttered close, and her last breath of air escaped parted lips...

* * *

><p>Her head fell hard against the deck of the pier and the crisp winter air attacked her dripping body. Charlie gasped before being overcome by a coughing fit.<p>

"Sirius –" she croaked. Her eyes were mere slits as she squinted up at him, but there was no doubting it was Sirius indeed who had rescued her.

He exhaled, sounding relieved. "Bloody hell, Frazier... I was just going in for _mouth-to-mouth_, you _dim-witted idiot_."

She exerted a few more weak coughs before struggling to sit up. Sirius was kneeling over her.

"Oi James!" he bellowed to his best friend, who was hurrying up the distant steps into the castle, "She's awake! We don't need Madame Pomfrey!"

To a gaggle of wide-eyed and muttering third years who had gathered further up the pier, he barked, "Clear off you lot! This here's only a stunt show if you're going pay."

The students eyed them both apprehensively before reluctantly moving back up the pier. Propped up on her elbows, Charlie regarded Sirius, her breath still uneven and heavy.

"You're wet," she observed hoarsely, vaguely mesmerised by a drop of water lingering at the tip of his nose. He went cross-eyed trying to follow her gaze.

"Yeah," he said, and she noticed his breath was still coming out in gasps like hers. "No idea how that happened." Sarcasm. More droplets escaped from his hair, which lay plastered against his forehead. They dribbled down to his eyebrows, which were knitted over hardened eyes. "Are you okay?" he demanded.

Her head stopped mid-nod as she realised something with a jolt to her stomach.

"_Shit._" Her eyes fluttered close. "Oh fuck – bugger – _shit._"

"What? What is it?"

Charlie's head fell back and she groaned loudly. "I'm going to have detention for _months_."

"What?"

"My book," she sighed. "It's down _there_."

She thrust a hand out in indication of the lake, eyes wide and glaring at the stretching and deceivingly calm water over Sirius' shoulder.

"Your _book_?"

"_Yes, _my book!"

"You narrowly escape drowning in the Black Lake, and you're worried about your _book_?"

"Yes!" She scowled before shrugging bitterly. "Though it's probably saturated by now anyway. Ink's probably run everywhere. No use – Where are you – _Sirius!_"

She was showered by droplets of water after Sirius dove off the pier for a second time.

_Idiot._

Seconds ticked by in which Charlie stared at the surface of the Lake in a state of shock. Then, as the disturbed water calmed, she hurriedly crawled towards the edge of the pier from where Sirius had last dived. The sleek, wet curls of her hair swung with each step, splattering fat water droplets against the worn wood beneath her.

Charlie peered down into the murky green of the lake. She couldn't see Sirius anywhere. No boy-shaped blur, no sign of any life. Her heart was in her throat and of course, she began to fear the worst. Sirius: the tosser born without the innate instinct of self preservation.

"Oh! – _god_," she gasped when her book was slammed down against the deck inches from her – the driving force being Sirius' hand. His pale, gasping face broke the surface milliseconds later, spraying water in all directions. Charlie's white fingers stretched out in the pale sunlight and she grasped him and pulled him up towards her. Cool water from his clothes spilled down her arms in rivulets.

He crouched at the edge of the pier for some moments, sucking in deep, rasping breaths. Charlie, paralysed from the panic that had gripped her, knelt in front of him with her fingers hesitant and frail below his collarbone.

Soon, she could feel his body radiating the slightest amount of heat. That, and the soft sunlight on her cool skin made her shiver violently. Staring at Sirius, she suddenly wanted to throw her arms around his neck and bury her face into the pulse that thrummed there, feeling his warmth envelop her.

Green eyes met grey. For a moment, neither of them said anything, their heavy breaths mingling between them.

"Cold," she whispered, breaking the silence. Sirius reached for something just out of her sight.

"Here – quickly," he handed her his robe, which he must of discarded before he first dove into the water. She accepted it with trembling fingers, her teeth now chattering.

Sirius shook his head, sitting back on his haunches as he watched her first take off her own soaked robe and then drape his over her shoulders.

"That's the second time you've lost consciousness on me in less than a week, Charlie. What's wrong with you?"

Charlie frowned at his tone. "What?" she chattered indignantly, having also bristled at the mention of what she'd finally recognised as a 'lapse'. "A girl can't lose her footing and walk off a pier?"

Sirius was staring at her hard. "You're an idiot." There wasn't a hint of humour in his voice.

"A dim witted idiot, yeah you mentioned that," Charlie reminded him bitingly. "Oh, and you're any better? Pulling of a stunt like that?" She nodded in the direction of the water. "There was something down there. You could have drowned."

"_You _could have drowned."

Charlie glared.

Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head again. Several more drops of water fell from his hair. He breathed in slowly and loudly, before exhaling fast. When he ran his hand through his hair, and as Charlie realised just how upset he really was, her own anger began to dissipate. But before she could say anything or apologise for snapping, he stood and pulled her up after him.

"Come on," he muttered, already walking back up the pier. "Let's get you dry."

And she never got to after that.

* * *

><p>AN: Guys, for future reference, how are you feeling about the time jump between this chapter and the last? It's been two weeks in the story since Aurnerie's farewell ball, and I was thinking today about if I had, how I would've written a chapter that fit in between. Basically all that I have right now that would've been in this hypothetical chapter is the scene of Sirius crowding Charlie against a shelf in the library just to see her blush (a scene which is in fact quite vivid in my mind), maybe a light, humourous scene where Charlie struggles with a good potion-induced swoon, the scene of Charlie running out of the portrait hole and knocking herself unconscious and probably some general, mostly pointless stuff in between.

I mean, it may sound amusing, but it's really not enough substance for a whole chapter I think. It was easier, and in my opinion more effective, to write all that in Charlie's hindsight. Though admittedly, I also find a few of those hindsight paragraphs a bit awkward.

I don't know though. You're the readers, what do you think?

Thanks as always to everyone who gave encouragement and advice through their reviews last chapter: WasabiWarrior 101, Nelle07, Merry Wanderer of the Night, Night Hawk 97, slytherinprincess, Leila and Hellfire Putten Ninja!

Next chapter: "Holidays came quickly then, and after a week in Leicester with her family and Gee, Charlie found herself on the Potter's rather large doorstep."

Until then! :)

- the punchline.


	13. Becoming a More Honourable Type

**Chapter Fourteen – Becoming a More Honourable Type:**

Holidays came quickly then, and after a week in Leicester with her family and Gee, Charlie found herself on the Potter's rather large doorstep. She knew from experience that there was no need to ring any doorbells or knock any doorknocker – somewhere, somehow, someone knew she had arrived. So she rubbed her numbing hands together, and hunched her shoulders against the mid-December cold. Sure enough, the polished double doors were soon pulled open extravagantly to reveal an elderly man dressed in crisp black suit-robes. He regarded her loftily, looking down his relatively large nose.

"Good evening," he drawled in an uncomfortably slow, jaded tone. "My name is Luther Strandsfield. Welcome to Havre House, home of the Potter family." He paused grandly. "Your name?"

Charlie smiled shiftily, unnerved by the servant's pompous manner and expectant stare. "Er, it's me, Luther. Charlie. Don't you remember me?" She offered a wheezy grin. "We've gone through this every year since 1973…" she reminded him, somewhat intimidated.

"Yes," he droned, sounding the least bit like he cared. "My apologies. This way, Miss Frazier."

* * *

><p>Her guest room was – as usual – <em>huge<em>. Charlie wandered inside, mouth slightly agape and eyes drinking in the elegant beige-palette décor and polished timber floors.

"We do hope you find your accommodation satisfactory," Luther informed her, still in that You-are-not-worthy-of-my-time tone. Charlie nodded eagerly. "Dinner will be served at seven o'clock. You are expected to be prompt. Mr. Potter and his company may be found –"

"Charlie!" James' grin was wide and charming as he stepped easily into the room. "I see you've been shown your chambers. I'll take it from here Luther, thanks," he said, politely dismissing the servant.

It was always a little strange to see James at Havre. Though he was as playful and arrogant as ever – possibly even more so around the family and Havre staff that raised him – but there was also an added, different kind of light about him. In this huge mansion, he was loved and respected – and not because he demanded it but because he deserved it. At Havre, James Potter was a courteous, intelligent and decent young _man_.

As Luther left, James stood just in from the threshold with his hands slipped into his trouser pockets. He was smiling at Charlie, so she smiled back at him.

"Do you like the room?" he asked after a while.

Charlie nodded and her smile widened to show her teeth. "I love it James. I always do."

"My mum picked it 'cause she thought you'd appreciate the view on this side of the house. You know," he strode to the window, pointing to the centre of the frosty glass panes. He seemed excited. "At around eight fifteen every night, the moon is right there. Right in the centre of your window... It's beautiful," he insisted. "Especially on nights with the full moon, like tonight."

Charlie put her bags down at her feet and slowly walked to join him at the tall bay window. "I can imagine," she murmured. She pictured the clear, intricately designed moon suspended over the majestic and snow-capped evergreens that stood for miles beyond the Havre Lake below her window. "Thank your mum for me. Hey – isn't that Pete?"

They looked down to the shore of the frozen lake where Peter Pettigrew had just side-long Apparated with a stout woman Charlie recognized as his mother. Mrs Pettigrew pulled her reluctant son towards her and, seizing his face, planted a large kiss on his forehead. Charlie and James watched, grinning, as they fussed a few more moments before Peter flapped his hands at her and with a teary wave, she Disapparated. Peter watched the place where she'd been last standing for a moment before he turned and made his way up the neat, daily-raked gravel road, hunched as he struggled to lug his suitcase.

"I better go help him." James turned to leave but stopped when he reached Charlie's bags.

"Selwyn, Mac and Sirius are here," he told her as he carried her luggage to the queen-sized four post bed.

"Oh –" stuttered Charlie as he placed it on the high mattress. "I could do that myself–"

James ignored her. "Their rooms are all down the corridor, but I'm pretty sure I left the Ackerleys at the pool table… If you get lost, the paintings will help you. They're fairly friendly. Well… most of them." He grinned at her as he reached the doors. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

Charlie nodded, a tad overwhelmed. "Yeah. Bye… Wait – James!"

"Mm?"

"What about Remus? Isn't he coming this year, either?"

"Oh," said James, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah – yeah, he's coming. He uh, he said he's probably coming tomorrow. You know… his mum's still ill and all…"

"Oh!" said Charlie, suddenly ashamed to have asked. "Right. Right. Tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow." James grin returned. "Make yourself at home, Frazier."

He disappeared, closing the double doors behind him, and Charlie was alone. After a few nervous moments, she turned to her bed with a sigh.

_An afternoon nap?..._ she pondered as she climbed onto the firm mattress. Judging by the grandfather clock she'd seen in the hallway outside, she still had just over one and a half hours before dinner was served. She unwound her scarf from around her neck and then took off her coat as well. Then, she unzipped her dark blue luggage bag and pulled out some parchment, along with her quill and inkpot. After spending the past week at home, thoughts of Gee and her family were fresh in mind. She had time to write a couple letters.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later, Charlie felt brave enough to venture out of her room. Dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a red knitted sweater, she moseyed her way down the hallway. The moss colour of the walls reminded her of bread mould, which made her feel bad for havinging such unflattering views of the Potter's home, although the bread mould wasn't a bad colour at all. She pulled her sleeves down over her fingers and shuddered as a sudden rush of cold swirled about her. Frowning, she moved towards the door from where the icy air invaded. It stood slightly ajar and Charlie peered inside, looking to close the sodding window.<p>

What she saw had her expression clearing in surprise before furrowing into a deep frown almost immediately after. It was Sirius, slouching low in a simple wooden chair that he'd dragged into the centre of the room. His long legs stretched out in front of him and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. The setting sun outside the window framed his profile, casting him as a silhouette. The only movement in the entire room was the occasional lock of hair on his head and various flaps of his clothing as the winter air flowed into the room from the bay window – identical to the one in Charlie's room – that he'd cracked wide open.

It was quite a dramatic sight.

She must have leaned too close because the heavy door was suddenly creaking its traitorous wooden arse off. Charlie swore under her breath as she hastened to knock on the door.

"Come in." Sirius' familiar voice was tinged with something that could have been anger, or bitterness.

Charlie breathed a silent sigh of relief – he didn't sound amused, smug or anything else which would suggest he'd caught her staring at him through a crack in his bedroom door. She entered the room twisting her fingers with the sleeves of her sweater and thinking of any kind of reason for her to be knocking on his door.

Sirius turned to look at his guest as she timidly entered the room. Almost instantly, Charlie had to raise her hand against the sunset that shone bright orange on her face.

"Charlie."

"Sirius," she returned, frowning for a moment at his flat tone. "I can barely see your face," she said with a short, self-pitying laugh. "The sun's right behind you, it makes you –"

"Seriously black?" His voice dripped with a sour mirth.

"Funny."

Sirius only smirked. He was still watching her, obviously waiting for her to start on what she'd come here for, or at least strike up conversation.

"I – er –…" Blimey, she was pathetic. "You unpacked quickly," she offered with a shaky grin.

Sirius' expression dried. "I've been here all holidays, Frazier. I live here."

Bugger.

How could she have forgotten? Sirius wasn't living with his family in London anymore. It was no secret in Wizarding Britain that the Black family prided themselves on their Pureblood, Slytherin heritage. Thus it was no surprise they considered Sirius' solid Gryffindor character as a genetic mutation of the blasphemous kind. And Sirius being the self-righteous prat he is, of course, wasn't exactly one to stifle his House Pride simply to save Black family face.

No, Sirius left his family last year. Packed his bags, left the home he'd grown up in, a contrasting world of blood status, prestige and house elves, and took refuge in the house of his best friend. He didn't talk about it much, though Charlie wasn't naïve enough to assume this was because there was nothing to talk about.

Yet here she was, practically rubbing his nose in it.

She swallowed. "Right."

She tried to catch Sirius' eye with her own apologetic ones. It didn't work. Several seconds passed before she asked him what was wrong. When she did, she didn't drag out the o's in 'wrong' so that it sounded pitying and as if she were speaking to a blubbering toddler. She asked him quickly and curiously, because she really did care about the answer.

Sirius sighed and stood wearily from his seat. He dragged the wooden piece of furniture to the corner of the room where there was a small round table of the same timber. It was then that Charlie realized how different Sirius' room was to the one she'd been given. It had the same beige colour palette, and the cream walls had the same pattern of embossed, curling vines and flowers. Yet… it was so simple.

Charlie had heard many a boast from Sirius about his room back with his family; how the walls had been plastered with Gryffindor banners and inappropriate posters of Muggle girls and motorcycles. But this room held none of that teenage boydom. The curtains were gone in this room, leaving the huge windows bare. His bed only sported two cushions and a monochromatic bedspread, as opposed to Charlie's seven cushions and a bedspread that looked like it grew out of the Hogwarts Green Houses. He didn't have a rug on the floor, and there were no vases or ornaments sitting around on any shelf, sill or mantelpiece.

An extravagant room stripped down to a simplicity she had to work so hard to see.

Having finally closed the window, Sirius was ambling towards Charlie. He came to a leisurely stop in front of her, his hands tucked loosely into his jean pockets. His grey eyes were clear.

"What's wrong with me, you ask?" he questioned solemnly. His voice was all but a soft, rugged hum in the muted silence of the room. "I don't know, Frazier. I really don't."

Charlie stayed silent, but did not flick her gaze from his.

"Look at me," he continued earnestly. "I'm young, I'm intelligent, I'm good-looking – Merlin, am I attractive, right? – I've got the greatest fucking friends any man could ask for and I've finally gotten rid of the people who made my life hell and replaced them with a family who love me like I'm their own. I'm a free man, Charlie, and I'm doing pretty damn well." He looked at her almost drunkenly before clumsily bringing his heavy hands down on her shoulders. "So what's wrong with me, hmm?"

This was not what she'd been expecting. Perhaps she shouldn't have even asked – god knows she shouldn't have even gone into his room. After all, Charlie didn't keep it a secret from herself that she was probably the _last _person anyone should go to for condolence or advice. Unfortunately, Charlie – it seemed – was the only girl lacking the quality to make a crying someone feel better. She couldn't coo, she didn't know how to pat shoulders or stroke hair, and she most certainly did not have any Hallmark words of comfort just ready to roll off her tongue.

Which was exactly why she continued her silence, feeling small and totally unworthy under Sirius' heavy hands and even heavier gaze.

"Maybe it's a girlfriend, what I need," he suddenly muttered, his eyes directed somewhere over Charlie's left shoulder.

"Well, you're already working on that one, aren't you."

It fell out before she could stop it. As soon as Sirius looked back at her, Charlie wanted desperately to slap a hand across her far-too-independent mouth. Her cheeks were burning as he gazed at her. His expression wasn't one of annoyance or denial, but rather complete and utter confusion. His hands slipped from her shoulders.

"What?"

Charlie swallowed, feeling her throat dry up. "N-nothing. I mean…" She fumbled for words. "Nothing."

Sirius was still staring at her with that face of complete mystification. "Nooo…" he shook his head, speaking slowly. "Not nothing… What do you mean?"

She gulped again.

He narrowed his eyes and said sternly, "_Charlie_..."

"I just – You know, I saw you talking to that, er… that… well, for lack of a better word and because I can't for the life of me remember her name, that _blonde Hufflepuff?_ The one in sixth year… that you – you know… you dated? Last year?"

Sirius' mouth was open. It hung open, and Charlie wasn't sure if he was aware of it or not. She widened her eyes a little at him with her mouth scrunched awkwardly to the side. He blinked, shutting his mouth only to open it again as he said, "You saw me talking to a blonde sixth year Hufflepuff I dated last year?"

"Look," said Charlie firmly, "It's stupid, I know… and it's none of my business. I'm sorry." She was fairly happy with leaving at that, but then that Little Miss Independent mouth of hers decided otherwise: "I mean, I shouldn't have assumed anything – unless I assumed correct? But no, you're allowed to talk to as many of your ex's as you want – and other girls as well. You can talk to other girls. Or women. Or… grandmas – shit, too far."

Sirius nodded, looking both bewildered and lost. "_Way_ too far."

"I'm going to go now," Charlie decided carefully, backing away. She half-turned to the door before she remembered; "Hey – you didn't answer my question!"

"You didn't answer mine," quipped Sirius, his expression still the same. "And _which one_?"

They both stared at each other, neither with any idea of what either of them was talking about.

"I think you're right," said Charlie bluntly, and before he could confuse them again, continued; "You've been through a lot this year. A girlfriend would be … handy, I suppose." Her voice lilted as if it were a question.

"Handy," Sirius repeated.

"Mm."

"Girlfriend, you say?"

"You say."

"What?"

"_You _said girlfriend."

"_You _said handy."

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek. She was so bad at this.

She thought for a moment of comforting words she could offer, but then rolled her eyes and let Little Miss Independent run loose; "Look, if you're so intent on channeling the whole Tragic Hero persona – _don't_ try and deny it, Sirius, look at this place, look at you – then you might as well do it properly. Find yourself some angsty bird to totter in your wake and stroke the hair out of your eyes."

Sirius stared at her for a moment, a glint growing in the depths of his eyes, until he outright smirked. "Didn't you hear? I'm working on it." He grinned as she rolled her eyes again. "Christ."

She laughed under her breath before meeting his gaze. "Seriously though, Sirius. You used to move between girls like wildfire. But now …"

His expression grew wry. "And here I thought I was becoming a more honourable type of bloke." He glanced at her for a smile, but she didn't give it to him. Nonetheless, a corner of his lips quirked almost imperceptibly before he shook his head slightly. "I've got more important things to worry about."

She watched him carefully. "You need someone to talk to."

"James."

She frowned and said softly, "It can't be enough."

He watched her for a long moment.

And then his eyes lit with a sudden intensity she'd never seen before.

"It's _not _enough," he said. "I _do _need someone." His voice turned low and seductive. "I need _you_."

His eyes darkened, becoming animalistic as he growled, "_Now._"

The entire room was cast pink and orange by the dying sun streaming in. Her body was suddenly lying on Sirius' monochromatic bedspread – except it wasn't monochromatic anymore. It was bright pink with a delicate rose pattern sewn at the bottom.

Sirius himself hovered above her, his body warm and hard against her own. He was kissing her beautifully, and she was kissing him too. His hands roamed her body and she kept flashing back to their first kiss in the Forest, except she could see Errol cackling as he watched from behind various tree trunks.

Nonetheless, Charlie and Sirius continued their sensational snogging. But something was not right and she frowned against his lips. Sirius was murmuring to her nonsense – sounding almost like he was speaking another language and it was so distracting, especially because Leonie Franks was singing so loudly…

She wanted it to stop so much – but it felt so good. It was chaotic, yet simple. Everything made sense – but she didn't know why.

And time was running out! She could hear the ticking, and suddenly the bells were ringing and it was too much – it shouldn't have been happening.

"Stop," she murmured stressfully as Sirius began to lick her neck in a strangely erotic fashion. He didn't stop.

Her body twisted and turned, and she tossed her head in an effort to put an end to it all.

"Get off me!" she cried. Panic overcame her as the ominous bells filled her ears. "Stop it – your tongue – _STOP!_"

Charlie gasped as her body jerked awake. She bit back a shriek as the furry, striped stomach of a cat blocked her vision. She gently pushed it away and the cat gave her chin one last lick before pouncing lithely off the bed.

Charlie sat up as she watched the creature's imperious journey across her floor and through the slightly open doors before it disappeared into the hallway beyond.

Her breath was still heavy and her skin was damp with sweat. She hastily pushed the heavy covers off her body and then leaned back against the cool pillows, eyes fluttering close lightly.

_What a terribly embarrassing dream. _

She thought about the evening before.

"It can't be enough," she'd said. Sirius had watched her for a long moment. And then he exhaled loudly, looking thoroughly fed up of the conversation.

Charlie had felt suddenly guilty. "Look," she started, "I'm sorry –"

"Nah. Don't be. I'm the one who brought it up."

"Well. That's true."

He sent her a dry smirk before turning around and walking back to the chair he'd just put away. He pulled it out and began dragging it noisily against the floorboards back to the centre of the room.

Charlie winced. "Look, Sirius, I am really am sorry," she said over the noise. "I shouldn't have –"

"No, no!" he said, "It's fine."

He gingerly reseated himself, stretching his legs out, slouching down low and clasping his fingers over his stomach. He had returned to the exact position she'd first discovered him in.

Charlie watched him dismally. That was it. She was never going to try to offer any advice to anyone ever again. Suicidal? Hup, don't talk to Charlie.

She sighed. "…Okay. I'll talk to you later, Sirius."

"Yeah. Talk to you later, Frazier."

And she'd left quickly then. She'd found James and the others, and Sirius had joined them not long after for dinner. He'd looked completely like himself from then on, but kept shooting her secret smiles. Or maybe he only smiled when he caught her staring at him.

Charlie shuddered again as she remembered the dream. And how Sirius had murmured to her in Russian… while he snogged her. Well. He snogged her very well. On the covers that had been on Gee's bed when Charlie slept over during the holidays. The covers on which they'd swapped stories, gotten sugar-high off gummi bears and giggled over boys (i.e. Rurik).

"_Aarrr_," Charlie groaned loudly. She couldn't believe she'd just had a dream _like that_ – about Sirius! Of course, there was no doubt in her mind that the dream was because of the potion, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

Judging by the soft light that streamed through the windows, it was still the early hours of the morning, but with feelings of disgust and humiliation swirling through her mind, Charlie started getting ready for another day at Havre House.

* * *

><p>Just before breakfast, Charlie and Mac sat sprawled on the rug in the latter's room. The morning sun warmed their paled winter skin, as did each of their smiles, which came easily that December morning.<p>

"What's going on with you and Rurik, then?" pressed Mac suddenly. "It sounds like you two were spending quite a bit of tiiime togetheeer!"

Rurik had indeed spent a few of his afternoons with Charlie and Gee the past week as the three of them enjoyed their holidays in Leicester.

Charlie executed a half-scoff half-laugh, although she could feel her cheeks tingeing at the new topic. "Mum was ecstatic, thinking I'd finally found myself a '_very nice, handsome feller'_" she quoted, rolling her eyes.

"And _have you_?"

"No!"

"What? But what about those _four dances _you spent in his arms?"

Charlie made a face. "I told you Mac, I don't know _what_ happened then. I'm not even joking, my mind was just blank the entire time. Blissful and blank."

Mac eyes widened and she grinned conspiratorially, "You know that's _exactly _how my friend Scarlet said she felt when _she _was dancing with him! She managed to snag the Courtship with him, lucky bitch."

Charlie laughed. "You see, he's just a brilliant dancer! No girl stands a chance."

"I have another friend Alice, and she says she feels all blank and light whenever he so much as _looks _at her…"

Again, Charlie laughed. Mac grinned too before sobering and saying, "But you're positive you don't fancy him? Oh, I wish you did. It would make me so happy if you dated that stud muffin."

Charlie eyed her friend pitifully and then, dropping her chin into her folded arms, mused, "I used to, I think. And there are moments when all I can do is just stare at him in this complete awe –"

"We all get that, love."

"But then when he says things like, _I do care about you_, or he tucks my hair behind my ear or something, I just – I freeze. I get all awkward. I'm not comfortable with that from him. He's beautiful… but I don't fancy him."

Mac frowned, pouting, and then rolled onto her back.

"Well maybe _I'll _just snag him then."

"Heh. You do that, Mac."

* * *

><p>As the two girls padded across the snow-covered field down towards Havre Lake, the striped cat (that had simultaneously suffocated Charlie in her sleep, sexually harassed her neck, and rescued her from the perils of an inappropriate dream) trotted ahead of them. It held its tail high and lofty in the air as it made a beeline down to the small breakfast picnic that had been prepared for the family and its guests.<p>

"Ooh," Mac and Charlie both shivered as they crossed a magic threshold that must have been cast for warmth. The picnic rug lay in the centre of a wide circle of cheery green grass, uncovered as the snow melted beneath the heat barrier.

"Good morning, girls!" chirped Mrs Potter, ever the smiling face. "Blueberry muffin?" she offered as the two stomped ice from beyond the threshold off their boots, removed their coats and seated themselves.

Charlie declined, admitting she wasn't feeling that hungry, and perhaps she'd just nibble on some toast.

As Mrs Potter expressed her disappointment, Sirius, stretched across the rug like some kind of Roman Emperor, leaned over the platter of scones for the cat, which had been padding towards him and meowing loudly. Charlie smiled to herself as he pulled the feline in close to him and began stroking it absently.

"Eat up, Charl," he said. "You'll regret it after a couple hours in Diagon Alley, trust me."

Charlie frowned. "Why are we going to Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah," said James. "Why are we going to Diagon Alley?"

Sirius shot him a look. "Not _you_, Prongs. Charlie and me."

"Why can't we come?" demanded James, with various agreements from Pete, Selwyn, Mac, and even Mrs Potter.

"Well you could, but we're just going to Ollivander's to buy Charlie a new wand."

"Oh," said Charlie. "We're doing that today, are we?"

"I want to come!" said James childishly. "I thought we were meant to be best friends."

"Why would you want to come?" asked Sirius, bluntly not unkindly.

"I don't want to come to Ollivander's. Although wand-choosing can get quite violent sometimes… Nah, I just wanted to check out the new Comet 180, I heard they just came in."

"Bollocks! That's already out? Blimey, I wonder how much one costs… my Cleansweep's getting a bit rusty, innit?"

"It is too… So I can come?"

"Yeah, mate. I'm not stopping you."

"What about us?" whined Peter.

"Do you guys want to come?" asked Sirius.

While Pete considered, Max said, "No, I think I'll pass. Besides, someone has to be here when Remus arrives."

And as Charlie finished her toast, the matter was settled. Only James would be accompanying them to Diagon Alley.

"Okaay," heaved Sirius upon the settlement, lifting the cat out of his lap. He stood, dusted his trouser front and then offered a hand to Charlie. "Let's go get you a wand, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>AN: Completely open to criticism on this chapter, as this is the first time in the story I've sort of developed JK's characters (Sirius, James). Constructive criticism, though.

Sorry about the slight delay in uploading, I've had a ridiculously busy weekend, and just wrote my most important exam of the year today! Also, I reworked this chapter a bit more, cause the conversation with Sirius just wasn't flowing enough. I'm still quite iffy. But, excuses, excuses.

Special thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and extra special to the new reviewers :): Nelle07, Night Hawk 97, Willow (oh my goodness, can you please get an account or something so that I can gush in length about how much you mean to me?), Hellfire Putten Ninja, Maximum Dusk, sonofafluffymuffin (your pen name intrigues me!), Rebakah, WasabiWarrior 101, Black Rose Weasley and Leila! You guys all rock more than rocks do!

Next chapter: I don't want to say much, but as the last line suggests; Sirius, Charlie and James visit Diagon Alley. A light chapter, nothing too serious.

Ohhh, I'm so tired. Thanks for reading, love you all :)

- the punchline.


	14. Curious

**Chapter Fourteen – Curious:**

"Oh my _god,_" groaned James, his breath fogging up the front window. "Holy _fuck. …_Look at her _curves._"

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius gasped. "Baby, I would ride you _all night_ _long_…"

"Hard and _fast_…" James moaned, seemingly in frustration. Charlie was getting frustrated too.

The new Comet 180 was a beauty, she had to admit. But the reaction it was provoking in her friends was more than a little disturbing.

"Boys?" she interjected pointedly. "It's just a broom, –"

"Just a – ?" James' eyes popped. "Oh my –"

"I need to buy a _wand_," Charlie reminded them impatiently, with only a touch of a whine.

"You know," murmured Sirius, his eyes glazed and his mouth loose, "I bet she fits under me like a missing puzzle piece."

"I bet she just _purrs _when you handle her right."

"I bet –"

"I'll be in Ollivander's if anyone needs me," announced Charlie loudly. "Or if anyone _remembers _me," she grumbled, leaving the boys with their noses all but pressed against the glass.

When Sirius eventually _did _catch up to her, Charlie had passed seven stores and was feeling pretty bitter about it.

"Merlin, you walk fast for such a small thing," he huffed, shooting her a friendly, mostly apologetic smile. She made a face at him.

"Oh come on, Frazier," he grinned. "You can't deny that broom was just beautiful."

She scrunched her features slightly before reluctantly admitting, "It was pretty impressive."

Sirius smirked as they veered diagonally off the main street and approached Ollivander's.

"Understatement of the year, but it'll do," he said, slinging a cheerful arm across her shoulders.

A man hurried out of Ollivander's Wand Shop just as Charlie and Sirius were entering, forcing all three of them to squish together awkwardly as they passed.

"Mm," said Sirius as they stepped into the dank room of the store, his arm dropping from her shoulders. "Your hair smells nice."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Sirius _Black_?" a woman's voice filled the small store instantly. She'd been standing by the counter, speaking with Mr Ollivander. A young boy, about the age of ten, stood dully at her side.

Sirius turned. "Mrs Cunningham!" He stepped forward to kiss her cheek. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm _fine_, lovely! And yourself?"

As the two upper class wizards chatted, Charlie observed Sara's mother. Mrs Cunningham was very attractive for her age. She was fairly tall, especially in the dark Mary Jane's Charlie could see under her elegant black coat and robes. Her dark hair was short and sat in soft curls about her face. Around her neck was what must have been a cashmere scarf. She was adorned with jewellery – none of which looked cheap. Her blue eyes brightened as they fell on Charlie, and her red-painted lips stretched into a cheeky smile.

"And why have you not introduced me to _this _young lady, mister?"

"Blimey. Probably because I'm an impolite little bastard," Sirius joked as he brought Charlie forward. "Charlie, meet Mrs Cunningham. Mrs Cunningham; my good friend Charlie Frazier."

"Friend?" Mrs Cunningham cocked an eyebrow as she and Charlie shook hands. "Come now, dear, you can be honest with me. I saw the way you two entered. I'm not going to run and tell Mummy of your gallivanting." She smiled.

Sirius returned it uncomfortably. "Actually, Mrs –"

"Leave them alone, Mother. They're just mates." Sara appeared from the depths of the store, tossing her long hair over a shoulder. She rolled her eyes at Charlie before giving them a small smile in greeting.

Mrs Cunningham huffed at her daughter before smirking at all of them. "Oh, if you say so, then. Though it really is a pity. The two of you would make _such _an _attractive _couple."

"Mother, _stop._" Sara leant against the counter and began picking at her nails. "_Look_, you're making them blush..."

Mrs Cunningham laughed as Charlie squirmed uncomfortably. She _was _blushing, and it was only getting worse as they continued. She was resisting the urge to hide behind Sirius.

"Oh, the poor things," Mrs Cunningham cooed before patting Sirius cheek affectionately. She had a loud, infectious laugh. "Well, we best be off then. Mr Ollivander is only the first of many lovely wizards and witches we have to wish Happy Holidays, aren't they Connor?" She took that hand of whom Charlie assumed to be Sara's younger brother, who nodded silently. "We'll see you tomorrow evening, my dears."

As her family walked out into Diagon Alley, Sara approached Charlie and Sirius with a twisted smile. "Sorry about her," she said.

"Eh," shrugged Sirius. "I like her."

"She's really nice," agreed Charlie, although her blush was only just dying down.

"Mmm," Sara rolled her eyes again knowingly. "Well, I'll see you lot tomorrow night then."

"What's tomorrow night?" asked Charlie once Sara had left.

"The Potter's Christmas dinner, remember?" Sirius went to the counter, from where the shop owner had mysteriously disappeared. "Mr Ollivander?"

He peeked over the counter and then down one of the endless aisles of wands before calling out the wizard's name again. When there was no reply, Sirius turned to Charlie with a frown. "Where'd he go?"

"Here I am, Mr Black," Mr Ollivander appeared from behind a shelf, holding a long thin box in his gnarled hands. "I've just gone and found a wand for Miss Frazier." He handed it to her with a smile. "There we go, child, try that one. Willow, nine and three quarters of an inch. Pheonix feather and rather bendy."

"But, how did you know_ I_ was the one looking for a wand?"

Mr Ollivander frowned. "Can't be sure, my dear. Now go on, give it a wave."

She quickly removed the glove from her right hand and, lifting the wand from its box, was about to give it a light flick when Mr Ollivander all but snatched it from her fingers.

"Oh dear," he tutted, as if a crushing failure had occurred. "I thought willow would be a sure fit."

"If it helps, my last wand was ash wood, with unicorn hair at the core. Seven and a half inches."

The wand maker blinked at her from behind his spectacles. "And why would that help?"

When Charlie flicked her second wand, a lightbulb shattered above Sirius' head. Her third did nothing whatsoever and her fourth broke the legs of the chair that Sirius was sitting on. Before Ollivander could bring out the fifth, Sirius announced he'd wait outside.

The fifth wand was a 10 ¼ vine, with a dragon heartstring core. Ollivander handed it to Charlie with what could only have been a smirk.

"I've a feeling about this one," he told her.

As soon as Charlie gripped it, the wand began to hum. A warm feeling flowed through her body, and Charlie knew that it meant she'd finally found a wand that suited her.

"There we go," whispered Ollivander.

"_Finally_," she said, with a wide smile on her face. Her body was still tingling with the wand's magic as she turned to give Sirius (who was watching from the window) an enthusiastic thumbs up. He gave an equally enthusiastic nod before re-entering the store.

"Oh look," grinned Sirius, "you're all warm and tingly like all the other eleven year olds."

"Shoosh, you."

Mr Ollivander took the wand from Charlie and slid it back into the small, emerald box.

"Sorry, what was that?" Charlie could have sworn the wand maker was muttering to himself.

"Oh, nothing," he said mysteriously as he handed her the box. "It's just curious, is all. So very _curious_."

"What's curious?" asked Sirius.

"Well," said Ollivander with a lilt in his voice that suggested he was enjoying the conversation far more than he let on, "I remember every wand that I've ever sold, you know." He paused as if for dramatic effect, but neither Charlie nor Sirius said anything. "And I remember exactly which wand I sold to _you_, Mr Black."

Sirius nodded. "Walnut, 13 inches, dragon heartstring."

"Yours is dragon heartstring?" mused Charlie interestedly. "So is mine."

"Aha!" said Mr. Ollivander. "And _did you know_ that the _dragons_ from which those heartstrings were taken, were found together?"

"No I did not," said Sirius warily.

"Yes indeed!" Ollivander was getting rather excited. "They were _mates. _Found curled up next to each other! Died in old age, they did."

"Ohhh…" Charlie exchanged awkward glances with Sirius.

"_Curious_, isn't it? Although I do believe you have the male's heartstring, and Mr Black here has the female's heartstring, but it's still very _curious _all the same."

"Ohhh, noo…" muttered Charlie, fairly disturbed by the whole story. _What were the chances?_

"That's _terrible_…" said Sirius, with matching tone and expression. "That's just _awkward._"

"Oh?" said Ollivander, seeming somewhat disappointed. "But it's very romantic! I thought –"

"Ohhh, noo," Charlie felt slightly sickened, shaking her head to discourage any more enthusiasm from the wandmaker.

"Let's just _leave_," said Sirius, already placing a guiding hand on the small of Charlie's back.

"Goodbye Mr Ollivander. Have a merry Christmas…"

* * *

><p>They met James coming out of Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop with a bag of dungbombs in one hand.<p>

"Choco-Loco?" He offered innocently, holding out a packet of the sweets.

"You're really no better than a third year, Prongs," chuckled Sirius as he took a handful.

"Oi," protested James. "You want to leave me some?"

"Relax," said Sirius. "These are for Charlie, too. Here." He dropped one into her palm.

"So generous," Charlie sneered, popping the chocolate into her mouth.

They went to The Leaky Cauldron for lunch and grabbed a table in the corner, furthest from the door and all the cold air it let in. As Sirius went to order some drinks, Charlie took out her new wand to show James.

"Nice," he murmured as he twirled it between his fingers. In one deft movement, he pointed it at a girl at the bar and watched as a gust of his conjured wind blew her skirt up. He raised his eyebrows at what he saw with a smirk. "_Nice_," he repeated, nodding his head in approval.

"What are you, twelve?"chided Charlie, snatching her wand back.

"Eh," he shrugged, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "She was wearing stockings."

"You're right. That makes it totally moral."

"I bumped into Lily at Florean Fortescue's just before," James announced as Sirius arrived with three foaming tankards of butterbeer. Charlie pulled hers toward her immediately, feeling the warmth spread through her cold fingers.

"What were you doing at the ice cream parlour in this weather?" scoffed Sirius.

"Following Lily."

There was silence as they all took sips of their drinks.

"What was Lily doing at Florean Fortescue's?" asked Charlie, licking froth from her lips.

James' expression darkened slightly. "On a date with Samson Boot."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. Seemed to regret it, too. That bloke's a right arrogant tosser you know."

"Yeah, I know. So what'd you do? Pretend to be her boyfriend, sock him one right in the eyeball, thus earning Lily's eternal gratitude and a good snog sesh in the ladies room?" Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

"Men's room, actually."

"Oh sod off," said Charlie as they all laughed. "I bet you just sat across the room and watched them, all sulky and shit."

"I did not. I have more balls than that, thank you very much. I sat down with her once Boot went to take a piss. Struck up some pretty good conversation actually – she even challenged me to save her from the disastrous date she was having –"

"Lily _Evans_ we're talking 'bout?" Sirius clarified disbelievingly.

"Yeah!" said James with a grin. "I reckon she's warming up to me."

"Definitely!" agreed Charlie, quite surprised herself that Lily would even share conversation with James.

"Anyway, yes – well, she said I wasn't allowed to pretend I was her boyfriend. If I were to save her from the terrible date, that is. So when Boot came back, I got all flustered and made to leave but not before I told Lily: 'So just remember when you get home, at least have a bit of look down there yeah? It's nothing to get panicked over anything – just a little rash. A bit of an itch. Look, it might not even be contagious – I may not've given it to you!'"

Charlie stared at James as beside them, Sirius choked on his butterbeer.

"Yeah," James smiled ruefully. "She's pretty pissed at me now. But you know. I won the challenge."

* * *

><p>"Can we go home now?" asked James half an hour later as they exited the bar.<p>

"In a minute, son. Charlie and I have to go look at some robes."

"We do?" asked Charlie.

"Yeah. Well, I do. I guess you could stay outside and look after the kid."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

By the time the three of them entered Madame Malkin's, Charlie had confiscated James' bag of Choco Locos. He'd finished half the packet and it was almost lunch time. And he was getting way too high off it.

"Tell her to give it back," James whined, tugging on Sirius' sleeve.

"Listen to Charlie, James. She knows what's best."

Pouting and huffing angrily, James sulked off.

Promising that he wouldn't be too long, Sirius left to speak to Madame Malkin. Charlie called James, who had been fondling some robes with a sour expression on his face and they sat together on the small loveseat, James holding his dungbombs in his lap as if afraid Charlie would confiscate them too.

As they sat, quietly waiting, Charlie watched Sirius speak with Madame Malkin at the counter. His back was to her, but Charlie could tell by both his posture and Madame Malkin's wide, fond smile that he was being charming as hell.

As she watched, Sirius leant forward against the counter and crossed his ankles. Involuntarily, her gaze dropped lower.

Sirius had a good arse. A great arse.

And those were _good_ jeans. _Great _jeans.

"Charlie?"

Charlie bet Sirius was a briefs kind of guy. Just a hunch.

"C_harlie_."

"Mmm?"

Sirius uncrossed his legs. Charlie watched the movement of his jeans. And tried to imagine the movement underneath his jeans.

"What's the time?"

Charlie's eyes followed as Sirius followed Madame Malkin further into the store.

"Just past one," she replied as he disappeared behind a rack of robes.

"Charlie, I'm_ hungry_." James pouted. He was really perfecting that today.

"Aw I know, bub," Charlie cooed, ever loving in her maternal role. "Don't worry, Sirius will be finished soon and then we can go home and have lunch."

"Okay. And then I'm going to tell everyone how you were perving on Sirius' arse."

Charlie's mouth dropped as she turned to face James so fast it practically gave her whiplash.

"I _was not_!" she lied hotly.

"Were _too_! And you had this dopey little smile on your face as well."

Charlie gasped. "You are _so _not getting your Choco-Loco's back."

"I don't _care_," sneered James in that sing-song voice annoying seven year olds perfect. "I can buy another one. …Can you imagine Pete's face when I tell him you fancy Padfoot's arse? He'll be _so _uncomfortable. It'll be brilliant."

"James, I do _not _fancy Sirius' arse."

"It's okay, Charlie. Lots of girls do. I'm pretty sure I caught Mac perving on it once, too."

"That –"

"Hell, I'm pretty sure _I've _perved on it!"

"_James –"_

He smirked. "Remus' expression will be gold, too. Mac will probably start _giggling_."

"I swear to –"

"But Sirius will be cool with it. He'll probably wink at you and make some shotty joke. Aw, you're gonna be getting heaps of those."

"What's it gonna take?"

James' eyebrows skyrocketed. A smug smile slid across his features. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Charlie pressed. "What is it going to take, for you to shut the hell up about what you _may _or _may not _have seen?"

"Huh," said James, appearing to be really thinking about it. "I don't know, actually. Wow, you must've been perving on that bottom pretty hard if you're getting this worked up about it."

Charlie flushed. "Another bag of Choco-Locos."

"Eeeh…. _Nah_. But giving me back _those_ will definitely be a start."

Charlie rolled her eyes and chucked the almost empty bag of sweets into his lap. "Wanker," she muttered.

James ignored her as he blissfully ate a chocolate.

"Homework for a week?"

"A _week?_"

"Two weeks!"

"_Nah_, Frazier, I'm good with homework! I think you're confusing me with Selwyn – or Pete, for that matter."

Charlie fell back against the seat in exasperation. "Eurgh."

"Better think of something quick, Charlie. Looks like Mr. Buns of Steel is finishing up."

Indeed, Sirius' curly head could be seen amidst the racks of clothes. As Charlie watched, her stomach sinking, he walked out into the clearing, followed by an animated Madame Malkin. The two of them went to the counter once more as Sirius fished out his wallet.

"Any time now, Frazier."

Charlie's hands went to either side of her face as panic engulfed her.

"If you want to save your frigid little reputation, you're running out of time..."

She turned to James in one determined, last-ditch attempt. Eying him with fierceness of a mother, Charlie said, "I _do not. Fancy. Sirius'. Arse_."

James grinned. "… Seriously, Charlie? A bit late now, isn't it?"

She glanced at Sirius, who was now putting his wallet away and probably starting on his thank yous and good byes.

"Gaah!" she cried.

"This is great," James was chuckling to himself. "This is loads fun."

And then it came to her.

"I've got it!" Charlie sat upright, eyes wide.

James eyed her disbelievingly. "Oh yeah? Let's hear it, then."

"I'll get you a date with Lily."

"What?" Now it was James' turn to sneak a panicked glance at Sirius. Charlie followed suit and her heart spiked when she saw him turning in their direction.

Her voice turned fierce with determination. "I'll get you a date with Lily! You know I can do it, James."

She was speaking so fast it was any wonder James understood her, but he did. His eyes snapped between the approaching Sirius and Charlie's half-crazed expression several more times and his face was going red with the pressure. Charlie could practically see the gears turning at supersonic speed in that itty bitty little brain of his. With Sirius only steps away, James swallowed.

"Deal."

* * *

><p>When the three of them Apparated back into the driveway of Havre House, it was to be greeted with the sight and sound of their friends skating over the solid Havre Lake. In one of her most girly moments, Charlie squealed Remus' name when she saw him. She ran to the edge of the lake and waited until he slowly skated up to her before wrapping her arms around his middle.<p>

Feeling him wince, she loosened her hold. Remus always came back from home in far more pain than when he left. Charlie was too scared to think of why.

Nonetheless, he returned her hug affectionately.

"How's your mum?" Charlie asked as she pulled away.

"Err…" he grimaced. "She's recovering."

Charlie smiled sadly. "That's good to hear."

Remus smiled in that tired, paternal way he had. "It is. Why don't you put on some skates?"

"I didn't bring any!"

"That's alright," said Mac, who pulled up behind Remus, rosy-cheeked and puffing. "Mrs Potter left some for you three over there. Come on, it's heaps fun."

As Charlie laced up her ice-skating boots, she watched James and Sirius with Remus. She was several metres away from them now and she couldn't hear what they were saying in their low tones, but she knew what they were discussing. Well, more or less.

Charlie suspected that James and Sirius (maybe Pete, too) were the only people who knew the truth about Remus' visits home. The reason why he was always so tired, why he seemed to be in so much pain right before and after he left, and what _exactly_ was wrong with his mother. With his family. With _him_.

She didn't care at all that she was not privy to the big secret – this was Remus' _life_, not some Hogwarts gossip. If he wanted her to know, she knew he'd tell her. But in times like these, when his eyes were so droopy and his whole demeanor was just one big façade, Charlie wished that she could comfort him.

But then she'd watch how James and Sirius were with him. The way they spoke in such serious yet understanding tones, the way they patted his shoulder, even how they could get that lop-sided smile on Remus' face with just one line. Even Pete's presence, when he managed to stagger over, seemed to give Remus' eyes that extra spark.

They were great friends, and Charlie knew that was all Remus wanted or needed.

"Hey, Charlie!" Selwyn beckoned her over. "Before the ice _melts_, yeah?"

* * *

><p>AN: I updated a bit quicker, because a) I felt bad because of the delay in the last update, and b) because I know that the last chapter wasn't exactly an edge-of-your-seat type! Although, this chapter hasn't been too exciting either. Though I do like it :)

Question, though: Do you feel as if there's too much dialogue? Because personally, I do love me some good banter, but I know some people find it boring.

Thanks as always to: Fairne, Putten, yobitchgotrickrolled (Wah, I don't know whether to laugh with appreciation at your pen name or be amusingly offended!), potterforever098, Rebakah and Nelle07 for your ace reviews!

Next chapter: Banter ahead for our favourite couple! (Sorry for those who possibly aren't fans of banter). A shorter installment, we're still at Havre (Charlie will remain there for another two chapters ahead! Is that too much do you think? Actually, tell me once you've read them) and Mac is alarmed when Charlie doesn't have anything to wear to the Potter's dinner ... Did I mention Super Sirius never really leaves?

Hit the review button and give us a shout!

- the punchline.


	15. Christmas Gift

**Chapter Fifteen – Christmas Gift:**

Charlie woke the next morning feeling sore all over. As Selwyn discovered yesterday, she wasn't the most balanced on ice. Despite his valiant efforts to help Charlie gain some sort of equilibrium, both she and him were bruised and stiff.

Charlie was on her way to breakfast, passing through the entrance hall, when she noticed the large front doors creak open just enough for Luther Strandsfield to bustle inside. Shivering and muttering darkly to himself, the butler hung his coat on a rack (which then began to waddle off purposefully, towards what Charlie could only assume were Luther's quarters). The old man caught her eye, freezing for just a grumpy little second, before carrying on as if she weren't there.

But, regardless of her sore body, Charlie was too chipper for such behaviour that morning.

"_Good_ _mooor_ning, Luther!" she chirped, with an extra-sickly-sweet smile. "What's that you've got in the bag?"

He sighed before fixing her with a short-tempered look. "Christmas gift."

"Hup! Cutting it a bit close, aren't we? Christmas will be upon us in three days!"

"Indeed," he drawled. When Charlie did nothing more but smile, he extended an arm towards the dining room where breakfast would be served. "You are keeping them waiting, Miss Frazier."

"Oh," she grinned. "Yes – of course."

* * *

><p>"Ohh, that's <em>gorgeous,<em>" breathed Charlie, staring at the dress Mac had laid out on the bed.

"It's too low at the front."

Both girls turned to stare at Selwyn, who was scowling at the blue gown with his arms folded firmly across his broad chest.

"You can't wear that," he said.

"What the hell, Selwyn!" Mac cried, just as Charlie exclaimed, "That's bollocks! You wouldn't give a shit if_ I_ was the one wearing it."

His scowl deepened. "You'd practically be flashing your nips at everyone!" He glared at Charlie. "And I would give a shit, actually."

"That's dis_gusting_," said Max. "_And_ it's exactly what you said about my last dress, and you could barely even see my collar bone."

"Stop exaggerating."

"Look who's talking!"

"Fine!" Selwyn threw his hands up. "Look like a little slag, see if I care." He turned, all attitude, and started walking towards the door. "Just trying to be a responsible older brother here!"

"Just trying to be a right pain in the arse," muttered Mac as it shut behind him. She turned to Charlie. "It's not that low is it?"

"Zero cleavage."

"_Zero _cleavage? That sucks!"

"Alright, like level four cleavage."

"Out of five?"

"Out of _ten_."

Max looked disappointed before shrugging. "Alright," she sighed. "'S'good enough. What are_ you_ going to wear?"

"Uhh, I'm not entirely sure."

Mac's eyes widened as she winced, as if Charlie's response caused her physical pain.

"I'm sure I'll find something!" she assured quickly, though it didn't seem to work very much. Mac's wince only turned into a deep, teeth-baring grimace.

"Don't worry!" Charlie continued confidently. "I _will _find something! And if I don't… Don't worry I will!"

And she did.

Less than 15 minutes later, while she was staring into the half-empty wardrobe, her suitcase open and clothes sprawled across every surface – Sirius Black knocked on her door.

"Charlie? Can I come in?"

"Yes you_ can_…" she called, whilst hurrying to bury some delicates in her suitcase and out of sight. "But you _may _not."

But it was too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Sirius already standing very much inside the room. She gasped and straightened quickly, realizing her bum had been jutting out at him in quite the confronting matter.

As she blew her hair out of her face, Sirius gave a little smirk.

"Darn," he said with what Charlie hoped was sarcasm. "I was hoping you'd be half-naked or something. But you're _not_."

Charlie sighed heavily. "That _is _disappointing."

"Unbearably." He grinned. "You're not curious at all to see what's in this magnificently white, flat box?"

"Donuts?" Charlie asked hopefully, gazing at the large parcel in his hands.

Sirius expression turned flat. "No."

"Then no, not at all curious." She turned back to her wardrobe. Seconds later, Sirius hadn't moved. She shot the mystery box a suspicious glance over her shoulder.

"I saw that!" crowed Sirius triumphantly.

"That's Luther's Christmas gift." Charlie was sure she'd seen the package peeking out the top of the butler's shopping bag.

"That's _your _Christmas gift."

Charlie's mouth dropped as joy filled her.

"Luther bought me a _Christmas gift_?" she squealed. She always knew the affection she held for him was not as one-sided as he pretended. "Oh Godric, I'm going to _cry!_"

"No," snapped Sirius, "this is _my _Christmas gift."

All enthusiasm left Charlie. "Okay, now you're just confusing me."

"It's _my _Christmas gift to _you_! I got Luther to pick it up for me this morning. Here!" He shoved the box towards her. She took it hastily; for a second it seemed he might start hitting her over the head with it.

The box _was _large. It fit awkwardly in her arms. And it was glossy. As she stared at it, Charlie only grew more and more perplexed.

"But _why?_" she asked.

At this, Sirius smirked. "Because I'm pretty sure I owe you one."

"If you're talking about that Christmas in fifth year when I got you a two galleon worth Zonko's voucher and all you gave me was a chocolate frog card with Geraldine Milloway's face on it –"

"Hey! She is a rare collectable! The first woman in the Wizengamot – I thought you were all for witches rights!"

"Sirius, I _still_ don't know who she is!"

"_You _need to pay attention to Binns."

"You couldn't even have left me the chocolate frog? You decided the _wrapper _would suffice?"

"The _chocolate frog_ was not rare. Geraldine _Milloway, is_. I don't owe you anything for that Christmas. _You _are just unappreciative. Now open the box."

* * *

><p>"It's really nice, Sirius," Charlie called shyly from behind the dressing screen.<p>

Sirius smiled to himself with pride. "Does it fit properly?"

There a slight pause, in which he would bet she was smoothing her hands all over the dress, all frowns and anxiety.

"Um, yeah," she said, sounding muffled. "Just – I think I got the zipper caught."

"Ah! – Don't pull on it too hard, you'll tear something," he warned.

"I know, I know, but – bugger, it's really stuck…"

"Have you got it on?" asked Sirius, approaching the screen carefully.

"Well, more or less."

Taking a deep breath, he stepped behind the screen. And what he saw very much took that breath away.

"Sirius?"

She was peering around the other side of the dressing screen, looking for him. The peach dress he'd bought her fell an inch or two above her knees – more when she leaned over like that. It was zipped less than halfway up her back, leaving the rest exposed. Completely. She wasn't even wearing a _bra_.

Sirius cleared his throat. Charlie jumped and then spun around, blushing.

"A warning would have been nice," she said with a slight laugh.

Sirius smirked. "That _was_ my warning." He stepped forward. "Alright, turn around. Let's get a look at that zipper."

She turned shyly, whisking her hair over her shoulder as she did. Sirius swallowed.

"Okay," he muttered, mostly to distract himself from the smooth expanse of skin before him. "Come 'ere, you." And then, "I mean – the zipper. Not you, Charlie."

She giggled softly. "I figured."

"Good," he confirmed quickly, his voice unintentionally rough.

Focusing at the task at hand, he tugged at the zip. And then tugged again.

"So, err," he tugged once more to no avail, "I think your zipper's stuck."

"Oh, brav_o_ Sherlock."

"Here – wait, lemme –"

Charlie tensed very much when Sirius slipped his fingers just inside the fabric of the dress, his fingers brushing her warm skin before pulling the zipper inside out for his observation. He couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Knickers in a knot?"

"Only when it feels like you're trying to tie them yourself."

Sirius growled, unable to ignore the slight flush in his heated cheeks.

"Completely inappropriate," he chided. "I'm being as gentlemanly as possible, given the circumstances."

True to his word, Sirius made sure he held the dress to her back as he picked at the material caught in the zip. The last thing he needed was a peek at what she had going on below the waist.

"Okaay," he heaved when the zip finally loosened. Upon noticing the slight shiver that whispered through the girl before him, Sirius realized he was breathing directly on the slope between her neck and left shoulder. His gaze fell on the creamy skin, and he inhaled slowly. His eyes shut of their own accord as his senses were overcome with her soft scent: that floral perfume from her hair product, a fresh cleanliness that could've been soap or laundry powder, combined with just a hint of something else; a sweaty, musky contribution.

When his eyes fluttered open once more it was to notice her rigidity, and he glanced at her face. Her gaze seemed transfixed on a spot directly in front of her.

Far closer than ever before, Sirius' mind blanched as he took in her features, as cast by the shadows of the early sunset. The delicate balance of softly defined cheekbones and equally so jaw structure. The outline of her straight nose, only slightly upturned at the end, and her thin almost dainty lips that were slightly parted. As his gaze travelled lower, he noticed a beauty spot at the base of her neck. The waver in his breath grew to a ragged unsteadiness. From his peripheral vision, he noticed that the rise and fall of her chest wasn't too steady itself.

"Have you got it?" Charlie asked. The voice, not much more than a breath, was loud in the silence.

"Yeah."

He watched her with something akin to wonder as he slowly slid the zip up the bodice of the dress.

In that time she wetted her lips, straightened her back, and fiddled with her fingers. And never looked away from the spot in front of her.

Suddenly, when the dress was completely done up, she turned. Only a little. She was barely looking over her own shoulder, but Sirius' nose was close enough to press against her cheek.

He tried to control his breathing. He didn't want to be blowing great gusts of hot air onto her face.

* * *

><p>They stayed like that for what felt like <em>minutes<em>.

Charlie had turned with the intention of saying something, but the words had died in her throat when she did.

Sirius face was large and far too close over her shoulder. She could hear his breaths in her ear, and feel them against her cheek. His hands were on her waist now, and out the corner of her eye, she could see his grey ones fixed intently on her.

Before she knew what was happening, Charlie's head had cautiously angled itself closer to Sirius', and he was doing the same.

Their lips were a breath apart. Her eyes were fluttering close…

"Charlie, did you find something to wear?"

* * *

><p>"Uh – yeah!" Hastily, she stepped out from behind the screen, hoping Mac wouldn't notice the flush in her cheeks. Sirius followed quickly behind.<p>

Smoothing down the dress, she smiled suggestively at her friend and asked, "Do you like it? Sirius bought it for me. Since he tore the last one I bought."

Mac's eyes snapped from Charlie to Sirius, and then back again. She raised an eyebrow. "Sirius _tore _the last one?"

"That time we were climbing trees," supplied Sirius, in way of a totally platonic explanation.

"Ah. Well that is definitely some brilliant compensation you got there, Charls!" She grinned before nodding, impressed, at Sirius. "Very tasteful, my friend. Well done."

"Thank you." He bowed his head.

They were silent for a few moments, which were intensely awkward on Charlie's part.

"Anyway!" said Sirius. "I better get going. Gotta dig out that old suit again…" He made for the door. "You look great by the way, Mac."

She smiled widely in her blue dress. "Aw, thanks Sirius. See you soon!"

"Yeah, see you."

As soon as he left, Mac turned on Charlie.

"You know, if that wasn't Sirius who just walked out, I would've thought I'd interrupted something."

Charlie chuckled convincingly. "Well, lucky it was Sirius then."

"Yeah. … Lucky."

She thought she heard a hint of suspicion in Mac's tone, but didn't want to find out. Instead, she shot her friend a kiss-arse smile and chirped, "Help me do my hair and makeup?"

* * *

><p>AN: It's a bit short, sorry!

I just wanted to thank everyone who replied to my question about the banter - I wasn't expecting so many responses! Your comments and insights are immensely appreciated :) And man am I glad someone's yet to express a negative opinion. It would have been truly sad to have to stifle my banter-happy fingers and their cheeky ways!

And to "nope" and anyone other new readers who were wondering - I try to update twice a week, so every three to four days :) Also, thought I might let you all know that we are actually more than halfway through The Willemina, there will be roughly another 10 chapters! But gosh, even thinking about the end makes me sad :\

My ace reviewers: Putten, slythernprincess, Rebakah, potterforever098, nope, AaheliBlack, Nelle07, Night Hawk 97, Leila, saudade do coracao, talyag and LeFreak (thank you so much for your insight, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And don't worry, I happen to like the word 'nice'. It's... nice.)! Would it be weird if I said, especially those of you who have been reviewing right from the start, that I do consider you my friends? Hahah, it's true!

Next chapter: A longer chapter than this; Charlie gets introduced to The Blonde Sixth Year Hufflepuff Sirius Dated Last Year, and the group get their hands on some firewhisky and other mysterious liquids!

Thank you all for reading! Love to hear what you think,

- the punchline.


	16. King of the StepStepNod

**Chapter Sixteen - King of the Step-Step-Nod:**

"I like the dress that you're wearing, Charlie." The compliment was delivered by Lucy, a small blonde child who for some strange, unknown reason had been assigned the seat next to Charlie.

"Thank you," she nodded politely, hoping Lucy's parents, who were seated on the other side of their daughter, wouldn't notice the strain in Charlie's smile. The little girl hadn't stopped with the incessant chatter and pointless questions since she'd sat her puny little butt down.

"Did you buy it yourself?" Her eyes were wide with her curiosity.

"No, actually. I didn't."

"Don't you like it?"

"I do like it. That's why I'm wearing it."

"But you didn't buy it?"

"No. A friend of mine bought it as a gift."

"Was it a Christmas present?"

"Yes."

"Oh, so – wait – so, you saw the dress in the store and you liked it so your friend bought it for you? Is that what happened?"

Charlie squirmed. "… Yes."

Lucy frowned and cocked her little head to the side, so one of her pigtails stuck high into the hair. "Charlie? Why didn't you just buy the dress yourself?"

"It's um, it's confusing."

"Ohh, okay. I like the colour of your dress. That colour's called pink –"

"Actually, it's peach." Charlie Frazier didn't wear pink.

"I have a dress that's pink too. My Aunty Isabelle bought it for me on …"

And as she launched into yet another long story, Charlie spotted Selwyn at the drinks table. He caught her eye and beckoned her over. Glad to be free, she excused herself hastily and joined him as he poured her a drink.

"What is this?" she asked, scrutinizing the liquid as he handed it to her.

"No clue. It tastes like dragon dung but the aftertaste it surprisingly pleasant. As is the sensation it'll give you in a couple minutes," he grinned, winking as Charlie's mouth went slack, having just swallowed a mouthful of the drink.

One would think she would have learned to not consume suspicious liquids by now.

"Selwyn!" she cried. "Are we too young to be drinking this?"

"Charlie, we're too young _not _to."

"Wise words, my friend," remarked Sirius as he drew up beside them. But he was not alone. On his arm was The Blonde Hufflepuff He Dated Last Year. However much she wished it hadn't, Charlie's greeting smile faltered.

"Kids, you remember Lorna Greengrass, don't you?" He seemed unable to keep the smirk off his face or the sparkle from his eyes as he added, "We dated last year."

Charlie blushed as both she and Selwyn assured that yes, they did remember and took turns to shake her hand and kiss her cheek.

She smiled prettily and said, "But I like to think I'm more of a friend, than an ex." She shot Sirius another dazzling smile.

"As do they all, sweetheart," he winked. They all laughed before Sirius put an arm around her slender shoulders. Ignoring the strange tightening in her stomach, Charlie listened as he said, "No, but in all seriousness, Lorna is a true friend. She's passing on some letters for me. Braving the Black household just so that I can live with my guilt." He grinned almost in shame, if that were possible.

"You're sending letters to your family?" asked Charlie, choosing to ignore his hand which still lingered on Lorna's smooth, bare shoulder.

He nodded. "Just a couple Christmas things. One for my Uncle Alphard, who still seems to hold some affection for me. One for my cousin Andromeda, and one for Regulus even, though I'm not sure if the little git deserves it."

The conversation continued for some minutes before Selwyn whisked Lorna way onto the dance floor where they were beginning the traditional Courtship dance. This left Charlie to face Sirius' conceited little smirk on her own.

After a few moments of feeling his unbearably amused gaze on her, Charlie sipped at her drink and murmured, "She's nice."

"I just thought I ought'a clear things up," said Sirius, mockery dripping from his words. "So you know – you're not still worrying yourself thinking I'm trying to get back on that horse and whatnot..." Charlie glowered. He puffed out his chest. "Yeah, um – not sure if you noticed… but I was talking to that brunette over there before. I fancied her when we were kids but no worries, I was just asking about her dad's business."

Charlie sent him a side-ways glare and opened her mouth to say something snappy, but the look only spurred him on.

"Okay!" he cried. 'I _may _have exchanged a few words with the girl in the blue dress but it was all small talk, I swear!"

He cut her off again, "_Alright!_ Bloody hell, so I tried a few lines on her! But turns out she's got some Irish boyfriend so calm your farm, Frazier. I'm all yours."

"Stop winking!" snapped Charlie as he shot her yet another of the well-practiced maneuvers. His laugh only made her frown deeper and she thumped him on the shoulder.

"Shut up," she grumbled. "You didn't think it was so funny when you were all 'Woe is meee, I'm so loonely Frazier!'" She poked her tongue at his raised eyebrows.

"Hey. I didn't say I was lonely, _you _did."

Deciding it was time for a change of conversation, Charlie asked (or was it demanded?), "Why aren't you dancing?"

"I don't feel like it."

"But you always feel like dancing at parties. You're self-proclaimed King of the Step-Step-Nod!"

Sirius smiled grimly. "You speak the truth, my dear. However…" He scrunched one side of his face slightly before continuing, "I'm trying to keep a low profile. Although the Potter's guests are without doubt at the friendlier end of the Pureblood scale, it doesn't mean they aren't acquaintances with my family … And I'm the hot topic of Pureblood gossip these days. I don't want any action of mine spun into a juicy blood-traitor story to be told to my mother."

Charlie made a face. "Good call."

"Mmm." Sirius poured himself a glass and with her mind occupied, Charlie forgot to protest when he topped her glass up too.

"I don't know how you do it," she admitted after a minute of companionable silence.

"Do what?"

"Look so at ease. You talk freely with so many people, despite the fact that they all could be judging everything you do."

Sirius smiled wryly. "Funny, innit?" He swirled his drink slowly before taking another sip.

"Oh, fuckshitballs." Having also put her lips to her glass only to find that it was empty, Charlie realized that she'd all too quickly finished her intoxicating drink.

"Merlin, you really gulped that down, didn't you?"

Charlie grimaced, sending him a worried look. "Yes."

Sirius grinned. "Feel a bit woozy there, Frazier?"

"No – I mean yes, but not from the drink. Although… shouldn't it've kicked in by now?"

"Hey, hey! Looks like you can hold your liquor, love!"

"This is not amusing, Sirius! I wasn't meant to drink that!"

He grinned with all his teeth and Charlie only had a second to admire it before she noticed the mischief in his eyes.

"Hey," he said conspiratorially. "Let's skedaddle."

"What?" hissed Charlie, her palms beginning to sweat.

"Come on. It's as dull as History of Magic lesson here – and the King of Step-Step-Nod wants to play!"

"Sirius! There is a hefty chance that any second now I'm going to start hiccupping and tripping over my feet and giggling at the shape of your eyebrows –" Sirius fingers went to stroke his eyebrows self-consciously, " – and you want to _skedaddle?_"

Sirius looked at her seriously. "Would you rather be _here _when all that happens?"

Charlie's eyes widened. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>They pulled open the Havre double doors only to stumble back as a gust of wind blew into the entrance hall. Sirius quickly brushed snowflakes off his suit but Charlie only shivered in delight as they melted against her skin.<p>

"Snow!" she cried in delight, clapping her hands together at the sight of the frenzied swirl of white before her.

"… Charlie, it snowed yesterday, I really don't understand what's so exciting…"

"_Youu_," she retorted happily, "don't have two glasses of mysterious liquor in your system!"

He smiled, seeming both pleased and surprised. "That is true."

He caught her arm as she skipped forward. "Oi! You think that dress was _cheap_? Wait here."

He walked a few metres, stopping before a wooden panel in the wall. He pressed something Charlie was at the wrong angle to see, and the panel opened outwards for him to disappear inside. It must have been a storage cupboard of some kind, because when he came out he had two ugly green raincoats under his arm and two pairs of tall, muddy gumboots in his hands. Charlie recognized the gear, having seen the Havre gardeners in them.

She laughed excitedly as he dropped a pair of boots in front of her with a grin. They pulled on the coats, which in any other situation would have been uncomfortable, and left their party shoes by the door as they slipped outside, having to work together to pull the doors shut behind them.

Smiling to herself, Charlie skipped down the front steps before pausing on the fourth last. She considered the stretch before her for only a second before springing off and plunging ankle deep into the fresh snow that had gathered at the bottom of the steps. Her smile widened.

Sirius chuckled from behind. "Okay, so maybe you _can't _hold your liquor."

Charlie chuckled too before ripping her boot-clad feet out of their snowy confines and skipping further out from the white-bricked mansion.

"Don't you love the feel of fresh, cool air nipping at your cheeks?" she called to Sirius.

"Sure beats this feeling of freezing wind biting at my face!"

Charlie spun around to face him, affronted that he disagreed, but the challenging look on his face as he hunched his shoulders and rubbed at his own arms only had her giggling once more.

He cocked his head to the side as he watched her, but Charlie pretended not to notice and began spinning in slow circles.

"You're more fun when you're like this," he mused loudly.

She tipped her head back to feel the snow tickle her cheeks, spinning faster. Licking a snowflake from her lips and closing her eyes, she said, "You mean drunk?"

Sirius laughed shortly. "Only a little."

"HEY." Charlie stopped spinning suddenly and Sirius lurched forward to grab her arms as her body instantly tipped sideways.

"Wooo." She breathed out a great gust of air into his face and Sirius gave a comic wince and blinked rapidly, making her giggle. He grinned too and she let her smile linger as she surveyed his close features.

"Hey?" he prompted. She blinked before remembering what had lead to her abrupt stop.

"How come _you're_ not only a little drunk?"

He smirked. "Because _I _am a man. And men know how to hold their liquor, young lady!" His voice became deep and gruff.

Charlie laughed. "Thump your chest why don't you."

"I would, but that would mean letting go of you, and I don't think snow angels are supposed to be made face-down."

"Funny," she sneered, to which he quickly quipped, "Aren't I?"

But Sirius' face was indeed still swaying from side to side in her vision. She shook her head and blinked, keeping her gaze on his nose until it became clear once again.

Cross-eyed from following her gaze, Sirius asked, "All better now?"

She surveyed him absently for a second longer before saying simply, "Yes."

And then very slowly, Charlie found herself leaning in towards him, her chin tilting upwards. Her eyelids were beginning to droop when his hands quickly tightened on her arms.

"If you're about to kiss me," he murmured, the gravelly tone making her want to close the space even more, "I feel like I should warn you that you _will _remember this in the morning."

The words had their desired effect. Charlie's eyes widened and she stepped out of his hold.

"Gah!" she blurted, kicking at the snow as she turned away. "Stupid potion."

"…You mean liquor."

"Oh no, I definitely mean –"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The Havre doors were thrown open once more and a small crowd of rowdy teenagers skipped down the steps. Selwyn was, of course, leading the way with two more bottles of drink in his hands.

"I thought I saw you two head out this way," he grinned. "Now, how 'bout we go get this party started!"

* * *

><p>Hours later, Charlie was not the only one who couldn't walk straight. They'd all piled into the garden shed, and standing between shovels and weed potion – with no air to breathe that wasn't tinged with the stink of prime dragon manure, and their only source of light coming from a few measly lanterns – they couldn't have been happier.<p>

"I've got _miiistletooee!_" sung James in barrel-chested baritone, producing a sprig and swinging it over the heads of Remus and Mac as he pushed them together. "Come on, Moony, don't be shy now!"

"James!" protested Mac with a laugh, turning her face away from Remus. Her cheeks, already rosy with her intoxication, flushed a deep red as the usually reserved boy leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek.

Despite the many hoots and inappropriate threat from Selwyn that this provoked, James was unsatistfied.

"_Boor-ing!"_ he groaned, grinning when he noticed Sara and Lorna Greengrass sitting on a table in the far corner together. "Now _there's _some Christmas spirit I'd like to witness!" he crowed and moved towards them with the mistletoe ready. He didn't get far before Sara pushed him away, affronted.

"Let's play Never Have I Ever!" suggested Selwyn instead.

"Right, because some of us aren't _completely_ bladdered," argued Mac.

Never Have I Ever was a Muggle drinking game, where those who _had _done what someone claimed to have never, took a drink from their bottles.

"Oh, let's play!" cried Sara, jumping down from the table to start pouring small glasses of firewhisky and handing them out to those who didn't already have one. Charlie wasn't entirely sure where the new drinks had come from, but she wasn't too far gone that she felt the need to refuse. It seemed no one else had a problem with the game either, and when Mac wielded, Sirius began.

"Never have I ever…" He paused. "You know there isn't really a lot I haven't done."

"Never have I ever fancied a professor!" announced Selwyn, who stood with his elbow resting on Charlie's shoulder.

Grudgingly Pete took a sip of his firewhisky, eliciting sickened calls from the boys until they noticed that all the girls in the shed were also raising their glasses.

Ignoring the boys' roar of questions, Charlie, Mac, Sara and Lorna grinned guiltily at each other.

"Professor Beauregard?" asked Sara, beaming and they all laughed as the other girls agreed. The former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had stolen all their hearts in fourth year, what with his dreamy gaze and the strength and confidence with which he cast his defence spells.

"I knew it wasn't my fault Lily got extra crabby the week that bastard left," muttered James. "Stifling her, my arse."

"Okay, okay, my turn!" cried Sara. She sauntered to the work table in the centre of the shed and smirked at them all. "Never have I ever snogged anyone in this room."

There were many oohs and aahs.

"Whoa, there Cunningham," interrupted a brown haired, freckled boy from across the shed. Charlie knew him as Johnny Farthing, a childhood friend of James who graduated from Hogwarts the year before. He smirked at Sara, who eyed him flirtatiously.

"I think you're forgetting." From his seat atop some dusty crates, he took a slow sip of firewhisky, not taking his eyes off Sara. Lowering the bottle, he smacked his lips. "Two years ago. Gryffindor Common Room the night we won the Quidditch cup. Me and you, behind the tapestry of Sterling the Quick."

Charlie weow-ed and clapped along with the others as Sara laughed and took another generous gulp of her drink.

"It was a good night," she grinned, raising her glass at Farthing, who matched the gesture. "Now who else is drinking? Let's go you tossers, bottoms up!"

Charlie couldn't avoid it any longer. She _had _snogged someone in this room. She'd almost snogged him just earlier that night. She looked to Sirius, who stood on the other side of Selwyn, leaning against a tall set of drawers. He caught her eye and she knew he was thinking the same thing. To drink or not to drink? He gave her one of those secret, lop-sided smiles – a secret smile just for her – and put his glass to his lips.

"_Pad_foot? Who the fuck did –" James stared at first his best mate and then at all those who surrounded him until they landed on Lorna Greengrass. "Ohhh –"

But just as his frown was being replaced with a relieved smile, Mac began to screech.

"Charlie? Who did – What –" Her eyes were huge and accusing as Charlie froze with her firewhisky at her lips.

_Stupid Sirius_.

Mac's eyes were flitting around to every boy in the room, glaring at them all with an angry maternal eye.

Charlie lowered the glass. "The game only requires the drink, Mac," she said, her words a little slurred. "I don't have to answer your questions, woman!"

"It wasn't _me_!" James cried in indignation, hands up. Mac had pulled her wand out. "Like I would snog _Frazier_. She pulled down my trousers in second year in front of half the school!"

Charlie giggled.

Mac's wand moved on to Pete, who shook his head fearfully and pulled a small pot plant off a shelf to hold in front of his face.

"Yes, that _would _be pretty far-fetched," she muttered, regarding his quivering figure. Her gaze continued on to the next person. "Remus is too gentlemanly…"

"Selwyn!" cried Sara, pointing excitedly. "Look at his arm, it's practically around her! I always knew there was something more than friendship there!"

As Selwyn quickly took his elbow off Charlie she stepped forward impatiently.

"I snogged _Sirius_," she declared, just as Sirius sighed, "It was me."

Everyone drew back in surprise. Except perhaps Farthing, who if anything, leaned forward.

James was the first to break the silence.

"I knew it!" he yelled. "She was eying Padfoot's arse the other day, you know!"

"James!" cried Charlie, affronted. "The deal is _off!" _

He only smiled smugly, crossing his arms.

"I can't believe you two kissed!" yelled Mac.

"This is so weird," groaned Selwyn, who had taken another step away from Charlie.

"You _said_," cried Mac, and Charlie wasn't sure that she was aware her wand was pointing directly at Charlie's windpipe. "You _said_, when I asked you if anything was going on, you said _no_!"

"I didn't _say anything_, and neither did you, you only implied!"

"You know, I think I should've seen this coming," mused Sara, though Charlie wasn't really listening. Her drunk mind was flustered, filled with embarrassment, anger and indignation – and dizziness.

Vaguely, she heard Remus' thoughtful voice agree with Sara. "There was that time in fourth year…"

"Didn't you hear me? I caught her perving on Padfoot!"

"Wait so why were they snogging?"

"_Charlie, _we're meant to be _friends!_ You're meant to _tell me _these things!"

"And when?"

"Hold on. Do you guys have some secret, sordid affair going on?"

She could hear Sirius trying to answer or dodge as many questions as he could, trying to calm everyone down. Mac was screaming her suspicions that Charlie's black dress got ripped that night not due to climbing trees, but to 'feverish passions'. Immediately, Charlie opened her mouth to deny it, but when she did, she could only gasp in one breath before her half-digested dinner gushed out to splatter all over the stone-cobbled floor.

* * *

><p>Her hangover lasted for one and a half days after that, mostly because of the sly smirks and suggestive comments Charlie kept receiving from her friends.<p>

"How come _you_ don't get elbowed every time you mention _my _name?" she muttered one morning as she and Sirius cleared the table after breakfast.

He chuckled as he started stacking dirty plates. "Cause hearing that_ I've_ kissed a girl isn't news. _You're_ little Charlie Frazier. And for your information I've been getting _quite _the number of curious and even threatening looks. Especially from the Ackerleys."

Choosing to ignore the satisfaction that the last part gave her, Charlie raised her eyebrows at him over the candleholder in the centre of the lengthy dining table.

"Little Charlie Frazier?" she repeated sceptically. "I'm not twelve."

"Are you trying to argue that you _do _get around?"

"I'm trying to argue that perhaps I just don't kiss and tell."

They met at the end of the table and Sirius bent so that Charlie could add her stack of dirty plates onto his. He sighed with a smile.

"Well, it's still news," he told her. "Don't worry. They'll be over it by Christmas."

Soon after, Charlie grew sick of their nagging and – half hoping that knowing the truth and circumstances behind the one-off kiss would convince them of its innocence – she sat them all down beside the fire and told the entire story, with Sirius commenting here and there ("It was not a _nick_, Charlie, that thorn was bloody _embedded_ in my neck."). She told them everything, from Sirius stupefying Errol and stashing him in a broom cupboard, to the owl that knocked Charlie off her branch, the kiss, and even the truth behind the meatball-sauce-wiping incident. She told them everything.

Though she did leave out the tiny detail that the _Nereus Ville _was still working. Yes, she left out the little discrepant piece of information that Charlie _still _fancied Sirius...

That night, she and Mac were whispering under the covers of Charlie's bed.

"No _wonder _you two have been so chummy lately," said the younger girl, eyes still wide with the revelation.

"What do you mean? We've always been good friends."

"Well, yeah, but ever since you both fancied each other in fourth year but were too bunny to do anything about it, you got kind of ... distant. Not a lot, but you certainly weren't as close as you had been. But now – everyone's noticed it – it's like you're..." her eyes suddenly grew wide and shone with a ridiculous hope, "_rekindling the fire_."

Charlie could only stare at her in dry disbelief.

When Christmas came, they were _not _over it. Sirius and Charlie were chased by James and his mistletoe, Selwyn bought them matching hideous sweaters and even Remus joked about spiking Charlie's drink.

"Hey, this is a _nice _coat," said Sirius on Christmas Day as he fingered the sleeve admiringly. They'd just run into a cupboard, seeking refuge from James' sprig of mistletoe. He noticed Charlie's glare. "What?"

She stayed silent for a while before saying simply, "You were wrong."

He grinned helplessly.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks to my super-wonderful, helpful reviewers: AaheliBlack, talyag, slythernprincess, Leila, Pink-And-Green-Jellybean, Night Hawk 97, Nelle07, nope (I guess you are, haha!) and PenBeatsSword!

Also, to answer a question of nope's: it will definitely be sad to leave these characters after the end of this story, but to be honest I can't see a sequel with Charlie and Sirius. I've contemplated their future, true, but I'll talk about that later. Perhaps I can incorporate one of the Ackerleys or someone into a future story. We'll see :)

Next chapter: Back to Hogwarts! Madame Pince, Girls' Night, and the classic phrase; "Get a room!".

Hope to hear from you, and that you're enjoying the story,

- the punchline.


	17. Friends, For Goodness' Sake

**A/N: Please go back and make sure you have read the previous chapter. **I'm afraid I made a bit of a mess by deleting the 'Introduction' which used to act as the first chapter (I decided to add the summary to the start of the Chapter One rather than let it have it's own page). Basically what happened is; I published what was then Chapter 17, but then I deleted the Introduction chapter so Ch 17 became Ch 16 therefore the link to the seventeenth chapter stopped working because Ch 17 no longer existed. It's confusing as eff, I know, and as a result I'm fairly certain a lot of people weren't able to read Ch 17-turned-16. So please, before continuing on, go back to Ch 17-turned-16 (King of the Step-Step-Nod) and check whether you have read it. If you haven't - a lovely surprise, I hope :)

If you have - wonderful, onwards!

* * *

><p><strong><strong>

**Chapter Seventeen – Friends, for Goodness' Sake:**

When Charlie showed Madame Pince the waterlogged copy of _The Willemina and all its Properties_, the librarian's nails had curled to dig into the polished wood of her desk. Her face had paled and her mouth formed a straight, stiff grim line.

"You will report to the library immediately after classes _each _day, effective upon your return from Christmas break," she had ordered tensely, her small head seeming to tremble on her sallow, thin neck. She said nothing more and eventually, Charlie had cautiously stepped away.

So it was that following classes the first day back, Charlie excused herself from the boys and reluctantly headed towards the library. Just as she'd expected, Madame Pince had a trolley loaded with borrowed books for her to return to the shelves, along with a library directory and guide to the filing system.

"The books must be shelved in correct order. You may leave in one and a half hours," the librarian informed. "But _only _if I see you have not been dilly dallying. And most importantly – you are not to use magic!"

The following evenings passed in a similar, laborious fashion. Apart from shelving books, Charlie worked on cleaning the stain glass windows, dusting out aisles that hadn't had a single foot set inside for decades (her sinuses blocked so badly on Tuesday, Madame Pince let her leave early only so that she could visit the Hospital Wing), repairing damaged books and clearing the work tables of graffiti. A few days in, Max came in with the idea of helping Charlie so that she could finish early and cheer the younger girl and the boys in Quidditch practice in the lead up to the game against Ravenclaw. Upon discovering Max merrily scrubbing at window panes right alongside Charlie, the two of them giggling and humming like optimistic little orphans, Madame Pince had given Charlie a further half hour imprisonment, and banned Mac from the library for a week.

"Eh," Mac shrugged, dropping her cloth into the bucket of hot, foamy water. "Didn't have any other library excursions planned this week anyway," which of course only prompted the furious squawk of "A month!" from Madame Pince. Not that it made much of a difference anyway.

"It's a bit over the top, isn't it?" asked Remus at breakfast the next day. "I mean, library duty _every _evening after school – for one measly book?"

"She hasn't even specified how long this'll go on for," said Charlie. "I just hope it stops before N.E.W.T.S get close. It's not so bad now, since it's only an hour or so."

"Yeah, but every night!" exclaimed Selwyn. "That's a lot of your valuable time, Charls!"

Charlie laughed. "Whatever! You're just upset 'cause it's time I usually spend with you."

Selwyn sighed wistfully. "Oh, the good old days when you used to rub my feet by the fire place…"

"Okay, that only happened _once_ –"

* * *

><p>Later, Charlie was on her way to lunch when Lily caught her in the hallways.<p>

"Hey!" she smiled.

"Hi," returned Charlie with a smile.

"Listen, we haven't had much a chance to really talk since we got back from Christmas break, so the girls and I were thinking we'd have a little – oh, we'll call it a Girls Night, even though technically every night is a girls night in our dormitory – tomorrow night. But anyway," Lily smiled. "What do you think?"

"Oh, um –" Charlie fumbled with her bag, trying to appear casual. "Yeah. Sure, you guys go right ahead. I'll probably be down in the common room 'til late, anyway. I have a Muggle Studies report due, so you know, you can stay up late and all that, you won't be disturbing me or anything."

"Oh," Lily said, sounding startled. The she grinned. "No, Charlie – _you're invited_."

Charlie blinked at her. It was true, their relationship had finally blossomed out of its awkward, tense not-quite-friends stage, but it was beyond Charlie's dreams that they'd progressed into a friendship in which Charlie was actually invited to _Girls Night_!

"Oh!" she cried, beaming, and then blushed. "Really?"

Lily laughed. "Of course, you daft bint! Why would we want to hold it without you?"

Charlie smiled widely and Lily's grin turned teasing. "Unless, I mean, you have that Muggle Studies report you want to finish off. We could always reschedule…"

Charlie laughed with embarrassment before assuring the redhead, "I'd love to!"

Lily beamed. "Brilliant."

The prospect of the upcoming Girls Night put Charlie in a good mood for the rest of day then. Even when she had to stay in the Common Room to finish her report as everyone else went up to bed, she felt a little buzz of excitement. _This time tomorrow, _she thought with a smile.

As eleven-thirty grew close, the Common Room steadily emptied. Just as a sixth year climbed the boys stairwell to retire for the night, leaving Charlie alone but for a third-year with round glasses who sat in a corner engrossed in a thick book, the portrait hole swung open. Sirius climbed in, happily eating a cream cake.

Charlie sent him an amused glance. He grinned as he spotted her on the sofa by the dying fire and loped over.

"Cream cake?"

"I'm fine thanks," she smirked as she dipped her quill into her inkpot and resumed her work. Sirius sank down beside her and they sat quietly for some moments, each absorbed in their own activities –of which Sirius' was munching merrily away on his cake.

Finally, she wrote the last sentence of her conclusion. She dotted the end and then turned to grin triumphantly at Sirius, who had finished eating and was reading the report over her shoulder.

"I've been on the Knight Bus once you know," he muttered with a frown. "One of the most dangerous experiences of my life. S'mental, that Muggles ride buses on a daily basis. Blimey, they're quite the little daredevils, aren't they?"

Charlie giggled. Her report had been on means of Muggle transport.

"Their bus rides are not nearly as perilous as that of the Knight Bus, I assure you," she said. "For one thing, they very rarely go over forty-five miles per hour."

Sirius scrunched his face. "That's not transport," he scoffed. "That's a bloody carousel." He picked up her quill. "That's a nice –"

"No!" Charlie lunged forward but it was too late. Her quill suddenly turned on Sirius and danced the tip of its pheasant feather across the skin of his neck. He gave a yelp of startled laughter and tried to move away but the quill was relentless – it darted away from his and Charlie's snatching hands, tickling Sirius mercilessly. His laughter quickly became tortured.

"No!" he was gasping as he fell against the sofa, arms raised in defence. "Charlie – your quill is driven by dark forces!"

"Anti-theft charm!" she cried apologetically, dropping her report and scrambling onto the couch to try and restrain her faithful quill. "I didn't know you were this ticklish!"

"Neither did I!" he wailed, his head writhing in an effort to block the quill's access to his neck.

"Stop moving!" On her hands and knees, Charlie pushed past Sirius' own flailing knees, braced herself with one hand on his chest, and then lunged forward. The quill flitted away the second she went for it, but Charlie was faster and closed her fingers around it, crushing its beautiful feather.

She stared at it, immediately still in her hand, before letting out the breath she'd been holding and looking down at Sirius.

He was bright red and panting, with one hand protectively around his own neck. Charlie burst into soft laughter.

He grinned and started chuckling also, though Charlie's slowed as he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Selwyn charmed it last year after I told him I kept losing mine." She smiled and teased, "The great Sirius Black, dominated by a humble pheasant-feather quill."

She flicked the quill against the side of his face and he gave a bark of protest before his eyes flashed mischievously and his fingers attacked her ribs.

"It's not so funny when _you're _the one being tortured, is it?" he goaded over her squeals and giggles. Wait – since when did Charlie Frazier squeal and giggle?

She writhed and scrambled away from him, but he trapped her with his knees and before she knew it, she'd tumbled to the ground. He landed on top of her with a grunt.

Charlie gasped for air between dying laughter, eyes alight as they met with Sirius' twinkling ones.

"Oh Merlin, I haven't laughed that hard in months," she sighed, and as Sirius chuckled once more, she felt it reverberate through his chest. She fell quiet, feeling her cheeks redden further. Sirius watched her with a smile still lingering on his boyish features.

"I've always loved the sound of your laugh," he told her quietly. The look in his grey eyes made her breath come even shorter.

She wet her lips.

There came a sudden thud and Charlie twisted her head to see the third year in the corner of the Common Room, having dropped her book onto a table, staring at them with utmost agitation. Charlie had completely forgotten she was there.

The bespectacled girl leapt to her feet.

"Get a _room_!" she ordered before stomping across the Common and disappearing up to the girls' dormitories.

Charlie's mouth fell open in affront. She looked guiltily back at Sirius, only for him to erupt into sniggers. He dropped his head so that his hair tickled her shoulder for just a moment before, still sniggering, he rolled off her and helped her to her feet.

"Goodnight Charlie," he grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders and pressing an easy kiss to her temple.

"Goodnight," she said.

He climbed the stairwell to his own dormitory. Charlie was finally alone in the Gryffindor Common Room, with only her stupid little smile for company.

* * *

><p>"I received a letter back from my Uncle Alphard this morning," said Sirius as he and Charlie were making their way back from dinner the next evening. There was something about his nonchalance that had her glancing at him out the corner of her eye, and the suspicion was justified when his tone turned bitter and he added, 'Or rather, from his staff."<p>

They turned out of the sunlit west corridor into a dim hallway lined with tapestries, and his face was suddenly cast in soft shadows.

"Uncle Alphard…" she said slowly. "The one who 'still holds some affection' for you?"

He nodded, and she frowned. "Why from his staff?"

The crease between his eyebrows became more prominent and he took a moment before responding. When he did, he heaved it quickly.

"Uncle Alphard's dead."

They stopped walking. Any positive emotion slipped from Charlie's face, leaving it loose in shock.

"No one told me," Sirius muttered, and he began moving forwards again, his gaze on the wall that ran alongside him. "He died on Christmas Eve. They've already held the funeral."

Charlie had come late to breakfast that morning, having slept in after the late night, and so hadn't seen Sirius. She wondered briefly how he had reacted to the jolting news.

"Oh, Sirius…" She placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," he said, giving her a grim smile. "He was getting a bit worse for wear, anyhow. I expect he's having a better time now than he ever did on earth. And anyway, that's not all I meant to tell you."

She frowned. "What else?"

"He – uh…" He exhaled quickly and swung his arms, gaze flicking amongst the rafters of the ceiling. And then he swallowed and said quickly, with a slight grin that suggested he couldn't quite believe it himself, "He left me an inheritance."

Charlie stifled a smile, afraid she'd heard incorrectly. But it threatened to show anyway as she asked, "A what?"

He grinned. "An inheritance, Charlie. And a rather large one, too."

Her eyes widened gradually with her comprehension. "That's … _Wow_!..."

He gave a breathless laugh. "Bizarre, isn't it? It's already been deposited into my Gringotts vault."

"Beyond bizarre – that's amazing!" she laughed, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly in her excitement. "He really must hold some affection for you, after all!"

He chuckled in her ear. "He always did laugh at my jokes."

She pulled away, smiling widely. "Wow, Sirius …"

"Mmm. I can only imagine how furious my darling mother is though."

She frowned. "She hasn't given you anything, has she? Hasn't supported you in the slightest..."

He shook his head with a dismissive smirk. "Not since I left, no. And I expect she'd have wanted it to stay that way. I'm sure old Alphard's been blasted off the family tree for his generous donation."

Charlie's eyebrows drew further. "Blasted off the family tree?"

"Well, not physically. But you know, all the best anti-Pureblood Supremacists have black scorches where their names were once embossed." He shot her a devilish grin, making her smile.

She watched him for a long moment then, and he looked back, his smile slowly slipping, until she wholeheartedly said, "I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything, only acknowledging her words through the gaze which he held with hers for a while longer before he looked away and they continued down the hall quietly.

"I'm going to leave Havre. Rent an apartment in London, maybe just buy my own place."

Charlie smiled to herself as she heard the excitement creeping into his voice. "You could buy a motorbike," she suggested.

He beamed. "Brilliant idea, Charl! I could take you for a spin over the holidays."

Charlie laughed. "I don't think my parents would approve of a boy who rides a motorbike."

Sirius looked at her funnily before giving a bright, lop-sided grin. "Oh, so we're after your parents approval now, are we?"

Charlie blinked. "No –" she blushed, "I just meant –" She gaped for several moments. And then, since they'd just passed one; "Look, I really need to use the ladies room."

He raised an eyebrow amusedly. "Oh do you?"

"Yes. I'll talk to you later. Sorry for your loss. But – congratulations on receiving the inheritance. And sorry. About your mother."

"Charlie."

"Yes?"

"Just go."

She nodded and turned to scamper off, when –

"Oh, but Charlie!"

"Yes?"

He smiled softly. "Thank you."

In the ladies room, which was thankfully empty, Charlie came to a halt in front of the rows of sinks and mould-spotted mirrors and took a long, deep breath. Sweet Merlin, _Nereus Ville _had turned her into a blushing, blumbering fool.

After a few moments, Charlie moved absently into a cubicle, deciding she might as well do some business if she were in the place for it.

She'd barely taken a seat, however, when the door to the toilets reopened and Clary Sprinklet's voice echoed against the tiles.

"…and I was like, _no, _Felicity told me she would never do that – which you did right, so I knew Kelly was just jealous of me and Johnny and so I told her, I was like –"

"Clary, shut up, will you?" Charlie immediately recognized the haughty tone as that of Head Girl Felicity Parkinson.

"What? – What is it?"

"… Did you _see _Sirius Black just then?"

"Oh my _god_ Felicity, didn't he look just _so _brilliantly _fit_?"

"He definitely did. You know, I think I'm going to go with him to ol' Sluggie's party."

Charlie, sitting silently on her toilet seat, felt her eyes widen. Felicity, though a complete bitch, was undeniably pretty. Any boy in Hogwarts would be falling over themselves to take her to a party. And Slughorn's belated Halloween party was just next weekend. The idea of Felicity giggling away on Sirius' arm and wiping custard from the corner of his mouth made Charlie's insides twist uncomfortably.

"I didn't know you were part of the Slug Club," Clary Sprinklet was saying.

"Please, Clary. I'm _Head Girl. _I'm granted automatic entry practically _anywhere_.' From her bored, absent tone, it sounded as if Felicity had made up her mind and moved on to more pressing matters, such as the reapplication of her eye makeup.

Sprinklet laughed nervously. "You should definitely go with him, Felicity. You and Sirius would make the _hottest _couple."

"We would, wouldn't we? … I don't know why I never got with him earlier."

"Oh, but you did, remember? That time in fifth year!"

"Oh my goodness, _yeah_… But he had that horrid haircut then. Not nearly as cute as he is now."

Having heard enough, Charlie flushed her toilet. The rushing, gurgling water echoed throughout the restroom and Felicity and Clary quieted at once.

"Evening," said Charlie pleasantly as she emerged from her cubicle.

"Oh," Felicity's lip curled. "It's you." To Clary, she said, "_She's_ the one who ruined my manicure the day before Aurnerie's ball."

Clary glared at Charlie as if she were vermin. And then Felicity twisted on her heel, her robe swirling, and strutted from the room, demanding that Clary follow.

With the creak and thud of the door, the bathroom was empty.

There was a dull, sick feeling in the bottom of Charlie's stomach as she washed her hands. It was a foreign apprehension, and she didn't like it. After a while, she realized she was staring dismally at her own reflection in the mirror above her sink. Her eyes narrowed. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, save her front fringe and a few strands on either side of her face. Since classes were over, she wore a sweater that was several sizes too large, jeans, and tennis shoes.

Seeing nothing but a pouty, average-looking teenager, her frown deepened.

* * *

><p>"Charlie!" Leonie was beaming from where she, Lily and Sara all sat on her bed. "We got scared and thought you'd bailed."<p>

Charlie managed a smile, banishing the heaviness her gut as she closed the dormitory door behind her. "Oh, no I just had to make a pit stop after dinner…. You know, put some in one end, you gotta push some out the other! ..."

It was a few moments before she realized what she'd just said. Taking in all three girls' appalled expressions, she muttered, "That was gross."

The girls nodded, agreeing vehemently. Sara mumbled that the hand movements were most unnecessary.

* * *

><p>The past six years, Charlie never once attended a Girls Night. She interrupted quite a few of them. She even slept through a couple. Mostly, she avoided them. Any prior knowledge of a Girls Night (usually obtained through skillfully analyzed phrases such as 'You can tell us all about it tonight!' or 'I've been practicing my braiding for tonight!' or 'We're having a Girl's Night tonight.') meant that Charlie might as well leave her essay to the last minute, and work in the common room late into the night.<p>

Her first impression of Girls Night was that it was so typical. Leonie would not rest until they all had on their 'jimmy-jams', and then they all sat in a circle on her four-poster, surrounded by Witch Weekly magazines and various beauty potions and lotions. They talked mostly about their holidays and other cliché topics (cute boys they met, embarrassing things that happened, complaints about life-ruining families). But what wasn't typical; what surprised Charlie; was that she actually enjoyed it.

"Sam Boot thinks I've got a contagious rash in my nethers," murmured Lily offhandedly as she carefully painted Leonie's left fingernails a deep orange.

"_What?"_

"_Why?"_

Charlie stifled a grin, thinking of James' proud smirk. It seemed for a second that Lily was hiding one to match.

"Potter all but wrote a play about it."

"What a little git!"

"You don't seem too fussed about it," observed Sara with an amused squint in her eye.

"Oh no. I'm _furious_. Potter's a complete arse – with an overly-inflated head. …I just don't mind that Boot has an excuse to keep his distance."

As Lily filled Sara and Leonie in about her date with the insensitive Ravenclaw, Charlie couldn't help but question if Lily was as furious as she claimed to be. No one had dared mention her prolonged kiss with James since that night after the Quidditch match, but Charlie was secretly almost certain Lily wasn't being completely honest with herself. And the small smirks and light-handed tone with which she relayed James' role in the date certainly supported Charlie's theory.

When the story ended, Sara voiced Charlie's thoughts.

"I still don't understand," she drawled. "At the beginning of this year you would've hexed Potter's arse into the next week for pulling a stunt like that. But now… you're grateful?" She was incredulous. "What is going _on_ with you two?"

Lily started, trailing off into a laugh that could only be described as guilty. "_Nothing_," she insisted, tucking a red lock of hair behind her ear. "I just … Look, he did me a favour, alright? I –"

"Did you a _favour_?" repeated Leonie. "All of Ravenclaw probably thinks you're carrying an STI by now."

Lily looked like she wanted to argue before her face crumpled. "Oh my god, I know..." She dropped her head into her hands, groaning.

"Do you realise _now_ that Potter must be hexed? He cannot go around spreading whorish rumours about you!" enforced Sara.

"Yes, yes, I realise. I don't know what I was thinking."

Charlie's eyes widened. _Note to self: Warn James._

"Good," Sara sat back, flipping her hair. "The boy's been pestering you for four years. The last thing you want him to think is that it was worth it."

* * *

><p>Later in the Girl's Night, Felicity and Clary's words kept echoing through Charlie's mind.<p>

"… _you SEE Sirius Black just then?"_ came the ghostly jeer. _ "Think I'm going to go with him to ol' Sluggie's party_…" _"So brilliantly fit!"_ … _"Should totally go with him … would make the HOTTEST couple!" … "Would, wouldn't we? … Don't know why I didn't get with him earlier…"_

It was the _Nereus Ville_ that was making her feel so twisted and jealous and insecure inside, she was sure, but even knowing it she couldn't pull herself out of the pathetic unease. Especially as memories of last night also flitted through her mind, memories of her squealing with delight as Sirius tickled her sides and landed heavily on top of her, his warm chuckle washing over her red cheeks.

"Charlie!"

"Mm!" She jerked her eyes from the ceiling and rolled onto her stomach to see Lily watching her with concern from across the mattress.

"Are you alright?" the redhead asked.

Not used to being called up on such a slight melancholy moment (the boys were never this sensitive!), Charlie blinked and nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course."

"You're not bored are you?" Leonie's bottom lip looked as if it were on the verge of a violent tremble.

"No!" cried Charlie. "Not at all." She rubbed her eyes to give effect to her next words, "I'm just tired." It was partially true.

"Ah, the universal excuse," remarked Sara drily. She gave Charlie the eye. "We're not buying it Frazier. Come on. It's Girl's Night; if you can't blubber your troubles tonight, then when can you?"

Lily and Leonie _mm_ed in agreement, leaving Charlie to squirm and try and charm her way out of the group therapy.

"Girls…" she said with a laugh. "Leave it, I'm fine. Really!"

"Are you having boy troubles?" demanded Sara.

"Oh, I bet you are!" said Leonie, seeming absolutely delighted at the prospect of boy-associated depression. "You can't spend your days surrounded by such piggish men and nothave at least a few threads of drama!"

"Selwyn?" Sara waggled her eyebrows with a knowing grin, reminding Charlie of her immediate accusations back in the Potter's gardening shed.

"No!" she exclaimed, amused. "He and I are good mates."

"Remus?" suggested Leonie. "I have no idea how, but he really works that bookish, rugged, cardigan look."

"Mmm," agreed Lily with a pervy grin. "You know what," she said with a sudden conspiratorial flare, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "What about Sara's cousin?"

Sara made a spluttering noise.

"Rurik?" said Charlie, trying to sound as if the mere suggestion were preposterous.

"That's him." Lily smiled. "Weren't you two pretty cozy last term? Oh, shut up Sara, just because he's related to you doesn't make him a troll! You know every time I see him, I just completely lose my train of thought… It must be a hundred times worse for you!" she said to Charlie, her grin turning cheeky, "I saw you chatting to him on the stairs the other day between classes. He looked pretty happy to be talking to you."

"No," said Charlie with a slight smile that seemed to calm Sara. "There's nothing there, I promise."

"So you don't fancy him then?" Leonie pressed.

Charlie shook her head with a smile. Leonie relaxed, leading Charlie to question why she had been tense in the first place.

"Wait," she said, her small smile flickering into a beam of comprehension. "Do _you_ fancy Rurik?"

Sara gasped. "Leonie, _no_!" she whined.

Lily laughed as Leonie blushed.

"I think he fancies you a bit too," said Charlie tentatively. All three of them were ignoring Sara by now.

Leonie's eyes widened. "Has he mentioned me?"

"Yeah, he has," said Charlie, even though she couldn't for the life of her remember. Her encouragement had been based upon the one time she'd seen the two of them talking before Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the year. But they'd seemed to be getting on quite well, hadn't they?

Lily instantly began to gush, but Leonie shooshed her quickly with the flapping of her hands and a happy sigh. "I don't want to talk about it too much Lily… I don't even know how much I like him yet. And it's not like anything's happened. It's just a little fancy, is all." She grinned. "Anyway, back to Charlie! The girl's got problems!"

With three pairs of eyes trained directly on her, all crazed with the thirst to comfort a sister from another mister, Charlie was lost for words.

"Oh my gosh!" cried Sara. Looking deep into Charlie's eyes she asked, "It's Sirius, isn't it? I almost forgot!" She turned to the other two girls. "The two of them fully snogged each other last term in the Forbidden Forrest, _and_," she waggled her eyebrows once more, "kept it a secret."

"Ohhh." Sara's audience was rapt.

Lily fixed Charlie with her emerald stare. "Explain."

"It's a long story…"

"I'll fill you in later," Sara winked.

"Do you fancy him then?" demanded Leonie with a grin.

Charlie squirmed. "…That's the long story."

The three girls frowned. She knew she wasn't being as open as they would've liked, but it simply wasn't like her to lay all her problems and feelings out for them to sort and pick at.

"Well…" said Lily, "do you want to go to Slughorn's party with him?"

Charlie winced. "I don't know…"

"I'm going to take that as a yes," she said firmly. She sat up and eyed Charlie authoritatively, who fidgeted uncomfortably. "Has he asked you yet?" she demanded.

Charlie's eyes cast suddenly downward. Playing with a loose thread on Leonie's quilt, she muttered a negative.

"Ding ding ding," murmured Sara with interest. "We have a winner."

"So that's what's upsetting you," agreed Leonie.

"It's not," protested Charlie. "We don't have to be going as each other's date to spend time together. We're friends, for goodness' sake."

"We're friends, she says," mocked Sara under her breath, raising an eyebrow at Leonie, who giggled.

Charlie pouted grumpily, "We _are_."

"Well then what's got your knickers in a knot?" asked Lily, just as Sara said knowledgeably, "It's only natural to be confused about you feel about someone, you know. I don't think there's a single person on this planet that could successfully identify and describe every one of their feelings or emotions towards anybody."

_It's only natural_, she said. If only she knew.

Overwhelmed, Charlie rolled onto her back once more. And then with a sigh, she slowly confessed, "Felicity Parkinson's going to ask him."

The gasps were inevitable.

* * *

><p>AN: It's just not flowing.

There was so much happening this chapter, and, ultimately, I really don't think it came together well :c It's the reason I took so long to update as well, sorry about that!

Also, so sorry about the confusion with the chapters guys! Thanks to everyone who managed to read Ch 17-turned-16, and then review it too: potterforever098, talyag, slythernprincess, Rebakah, Nelle07 and PenBeatsSword :)

Next chapter: Library duty with Mr Black and Madame Pince, and then Charlie finally decides to share her secret with someone...

Review with your thoughts, won't you?

- the punchline.


	18. With Like, Cucumbers

**Chapter Eighteen – With Like... Cucumbers:**

The next week found Charlie hunched underneath a library study desk with a ruler in hand, carefully prying off year-old blobs of chewed gum. What made it worse was that the blue coloured gum in particular made stubborn, high-pitched grunts every time she prodded it and would not budge until she pulled it off with her fingers – and even then it would wail the way a tantrum-throwing child would and she'd be pulling the stretching sweet for minutes as it did everything it could to remain attached to the underside of the desk. Every time this happened, another one of the students who were trying to study in the vicinity got up and left, throwing Charlie a venomous glare. Eventually, she was alone.

"Boo."

"Wurgh!" Charlie jumped, and the pink gum she'd been prying dropped onto her chest and into her cleavage. She let out a wail as she quickly plunged her hand down her shirt and recovered the mouldy candy, throwing it into the bucket of multi-coloured blobs before shuddering violently.

"Bloody hell, Sirius," she cried as he sat back on his haunches with a guilty expression, "you know just _being_ in the library gives me the creeps, why would you do that?"

He ignored her. "Is this where you've been disappearing to after classes every day?"

"Yeah, I've got library duty," she snapped, though she knew it wasn't his fault he didn't know. Charlie purposely hadn't told Sirius of her punishment. She wasn't sure why though.

"Every day? For that one book you drowned? Phwoah, must've been a pretty important book."

Right, that's why she didn't tell him. The last thing Charlie needed was Sirius asking questions and finding out that she'd been researching the Willemina. That would only lead to more questions. And those were questions Charlie didn't quite want to answer. She still hadn't told him that the potion had not faded as they'd thought. For some reason, she thought it would be an entirely too humiliating thing to admit – even more so after all this time. As petty as it was, she was simply too proud for it.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter," she said quickly.

Sirius was quiet for a few moments before shooting her one of those trademark crooked smiles. "You got a spare ruler on you?"

The look banished her anger almost immediately. Her lips turned reluctantly upwards before she sighed, "You can't help, Sirius," and went on to explain what happened when Madame Pince discovered Mac lending Charlie a hand.

"Alright then," he said. "Fine."

He stood up, and Charlie watched his legs (all she could see from her position under the table) as they strode purposefully away, confused and, admittedly, a little hurt that was he leaving so quickly.

She'd barely succeeded in picking off another piece of gum when the chair at the desk beside hers pulled out and a pair of familiar legs took a seat and crossed themselves at the ankle.

"Sirius," she hissed. "What're you doing?"

"Studying," came the low, muffled answer from above. "I better not catch you looking up my skirt, Frasier."

Charlie rolled her eyes, but continued picking at the gum. She couldn't say she minded the company, and... it _was _Sirius. She allowed herself a furtive little smile.

But of course, it wasn't long before said 'company' got bored.

"Sirius, you prick, you're so annoying!" Charlie hissed, shoving at his feet to stop their incessant tapping against her lower back.

"Oh, is that you? Sorry, I thought it was the table leg."

"Sod off."

"Charlie, I'm bored!" His curly head appeared beneath the table. "How long've you got – oh…" he grinned. "Gotten ourselves in a bit of a sticky situation, have we?"

Charlie frowned. "What do you mean?" She tried to follow his gaze, but yelped at a sharp tugging above her right ear.

"Stop," said Sirius as he scrambled to the floor. "You've got gum in your hair."

Charlie glowered. "What colour is it? It's blue, isn't it? I bet it's blue. Little bugger."

"Calm your farm woman, I'll get it out." He reached forward as Charlie ducked her head to allow him better access. "Yeah, it is blue."

"_Ow_," she said after a few moments, digging her fingers into his arm.

"It's pretty stuck."

"Oh no_ really_?" she said with heavy sarcasm.

Sirius ignored her as he got out his wand. "_Relashio_," he whispered.

The pain and tension eased and, free from the gum's hold, Charlie teased, "You didn't lop off half my hair, did you?"

"Eh. Closer to three quarters."

They both laughed softly, though Charlie's quieted as Sirius smoothed down the hair in her ponytail. He was sitting so close as he did, and his face hovered so near she could feel its warmth. She gulped as her throat went dry.

"Thanks." Her voice came out softer than she intended.

"Not a problem."

They were quiet.

"Well!" Charlie forced a massive smile before crawling out from under the table. "I'm pretty much done for the day! Thanks for your company, Sirius, but you'd better get going."

"Why's that?" he asked as he stood up also.

"Because I've only about five minutes left, and Merlin forbid Madame Pince see you now and give me an extra thirty minutes when I'm this close to freedom." She closed the textbook he'd been 'reading' and handed it to him decisively. "I'll see you in the Common Room."

Picking up the bucket of gum and the ruler, Charlie left the study area and tipped the gum into a bin by the library entrance.

"_Stop_ following me." She turned to stare Sirius square in the eye.

"I can't remember where I got the book from." The open, nonchalant look of innocence was one that Charlie had seen many times. She'd even offered tips of improvement as he practiced it in the mirror once.

"For Godric's sake, Sirius!" She snatched the book off him and with one glance at the title (_Reading Between the Lines_ – _A guide to ancient wizarding hieroglyphics by Douglas Dammerforth)_ strode across the library towards Aisle 128.

"I didn't see you at the match yesterday," Sirius said, referring to when Gryffindor played against Ravenclaw that weekend. His long strides easily kept up with Charlie's tempered march.

"I was there, I just came late. And keep your voice down, will you?"

"I didn't see you afterwards either."

"I left early too. I had some work to catch up on."

"This library duty is taking up too much of your time. N.E.W.T.S aren't too far off... I might have a word to Madame Pince about this."

Charlie, having slid the book into its vacated spot, turned to face Sirius with a raised eyebrow.

"Appreciate the concern, Father, but I can handle it. Besides," she said, leaning against the waist-high shelves with narrowed eyes. "From what I've heard, I didn't miss anything I'd have enjoyed watching."

Gryffindor had been pummeled. Ravenclaw's Hilary Buffet caught the snitch just under one and a half hours into the game, securing victory with a 210 point lead. Phil Spinnet, Gryffindor's fifth year chaser, had a swollen ankle from a failed dive and James had a large purple bruise spreading behind his left shoulder that he'd had a roar at Sirius for.

Sirius too narrowed his eyes, obviously taking offence. "Yeah, well I couldn't find my good-luck charm, could I?"

Charlie rolled her eyes at his accusatory tone, grinning. The whole concept of the Before-The-Game Ritual was just so silly.

Before she could say anything, however, Sirius took a step closer, his narrowed eyes becoming mischievous as he smirked. "Besides... from what James tells me, there's a lot you would've enjoyed watching."

She didn't say anything, afraid that he was referring to what she thought he was referring to. But then he made it quite clear by shrugging and muttering obnoxiously, "Like my _arse_, for example."

Charlie growled at once, feeling her face heat. "Oh, I'm going to hex that little –"

Madame Pomfrey, back hunched and sallow neck craning as always, emerged out of Aisle 126. Abandoning the rest of her threat, Charlie dropped behind the low shelves and whacked her arm across the backs of Sirius' knees. He crumpled to the ground with a strangled yelp.

"I _wasn't _perving on your arse," insisted Charlie in a whisper as they huddled with their backs to the bookcase.

"It's perfectly understandable," he said, ignoring her. "I have nice buttocks!" He shrugged, as if it were a simple fact of life. "And it's not as if I haven't eyed your bum on occasion."

Charlie whipped around to stare at him for the briefest second, before looking away, shocked yet a little amused. He was grinning at her. Flirtatiously. She gave a slight breath of laughter.

There were two interesting things about his last comment. The first was that this Sirius, the one that blatantly flirted with almost everything that walked past with boobs, was a character she hadn't seen in a long time. Since he moved out of his family home, she supposed. It was strangely nice to see this Sirius returned. The second interesting thing was that Sirius blatantly flirted with _almost _everything that walked past with boobs; she had never fallen into the category of things that got blatantly flirted with. But all of a sudden she was. And to be honest, it was more difficult than Charlie expected to decide whether she liked that or not.

"Um..." she stalled, thinking of something to say, still with a slight grin tweaking the very ends of her mouth. "I –

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, Charlie suddenly remembered Felicity.

Upon hearing her news at the Girls' Night, the Gryffindor girls had all insisted that the best way they could prevent Sirius attending the party with Felicity was if Charlie asked him first. "Take charge!" Sara had ordered. "Don't let her get her claws into _your_ man."

But he wasn't _her_ man. And she didn't _want_ to take charge. …Did she?

Either way, Charlie found herself dropping a very sudden, "Hey." And then, not even knowing where her words were taking her, she continued, "It's Slughorn's party this weekend."

Sirius eyes twinkled at her as he gave her a pleased little smile. "Yeah," he said. "I've actually been meaning to, um, to ask you about that. Did you –"

"Miss Frasier? Is that you I just saw drop behind the shelf?" Madame Pince was fast approaching.

"Hi!" Charlie bolted upright, shooting the librarian a bright, false smile. "Hello!"

Madame Pince took a quick step back. "Almost knocked the spectacles right off my nose," she simpered as she delicately straightened them.

"Sorry, Madame."

"Yes. And who is that I saw standing with you?"

Charlie kicked frenziedly at Sirius as the suspicious vulture-like librarian leaned over the shelf to peer at the floor by her feet. But when her kicks hit nothing but air, Charlie joined Madame Pince in a perplexed stare at the empty space.

Thankfully, Charlie recovered quickly and was able to insist, "Nothing." She smiled at the librarian in a pitying manner. "There's no one here at all. Are you feeling alright, Madame Pince?"

The woman frowned, not convinced. "Fine, Miss Frazier," she replied coldly.

She turned to leave, but not before informing Charlie that her assistance was no longer required that day.

"Er – excuse me, Madame Pince!"

Sirius had suddenly emerged out of Aisle 129. Charlie turned to stare at him, bewildered. How did he get there? And what was he up to?

Holding up a dusty volume he asked, "Could you help me find a book? I'm looking for one similar to this, just with a little less focus on …" He glanced at the cover page and Charlie wondered if Madame Pince also so the look of alarm that flitted very briefly over his features. The next few words were mumbled embarrassedly; "A little less focus on, er, An Exploration of the Sexual and Assexual Reproductions of Magical Creatures…"

Charlie bit back a laugh.

"I'm sure Miss Frazier will be more than willing to help you with your search, Mr Black," Madame Pince smiled sweetly. She'd always had a soft spot for the Marauders.

"What?' Charlie spluttered. "But you just said I could leave –"

"To be precise, Miss Frazier, you have thirty-six seconds remaining of servitude."

Charlie was gaping at Madame Pince when Sirius cordially interrupted.

"Oh, that's right!" he exclaimed with interest. "You have library duty don't you, Charlie?" He cocked his head. "What was that for again?"

Charlie's eyes widened. She knew it had been strange when he let the subject drop so easily earlier. It wasn't like Sirius to be content with not having all the answers. With a smug smirk in her direction, he turned to Madame Pince with a polite, fascinated expression.

Before the librarian could answer, Charlie stuck her head forward, vying for Sirius' eye contact. "Uh," she said pointedly, gritting her teeth. "I accidently damaged a book beyond repair. _I already told you_." She spoke slowly and firmly, eyes shooting daggers. How dare he be sneaky with her?

Sirius smirked again. "Yes," he said, "but –"

"It wasn't just _any_ book," Madame Pince cut in – the nosy, snobby bint. "_The_ _Willemina and all its Properties _is a superb tome with information that cannot be found in any other book in this library. It was a vital addition to the Hogwarts collection and will prove very difficult to replace …"

Charlie wasn't listening to any more of the librarian's pompous rant as Sirius turned to her with drawn eyebrows and suspicious eyes.

"The Willemina?" he asked.

Charlie found it difficult to meet his gaze as she hissed, "Don't worry about it." This was exactly what she'd wanted to avoid.

"Madame Pince," she interrupted the librarian's lecture. "I think my thirty-six seconds are up. May I be excused?"

The librarian eyed her for a moment before smacking her lips and nodding. "Very well. Same time tomorrow. _Er_ – _not_ you, Mr Black! You'll have to return that book if you're planning on leaving."

* * *

><p>Late that night, after Sirius went to bed, Charlie ventured downstairs from the dormitory. Yes, she was avoiding him.<p>

The thing was, when she'd left him with Madame Pince at Aisle 128, she hadn't exited the library. At the last moment her feet had detoured and taken her to aisle 76, which contained books pertaining to will-altering magic. She'd frantically pulled out book after book on love potions, read passage after passage concerning the _Nereus Ville _or the Willemina and muttered curse after curse when no book – _not a single book _– explained her symptoms. Every one of them supported what Rurik had said all that time ago: the _Nereus Ville _could not ensure a continued relationship of love; it did not have the magical capacity to establish lingering feelings any further than four days.

_Four days. _Then what was happening to _her_? What was this hopeless attraction she was still experiencing – months after she'd taken the potion?This... this _smitten_ teenage girl was not Charlie! It couldn't be! Charlie Frazier's gut didn't _twist_ at the thought of her mate going to a party with another girl, her heart didn't _flutter_ when boys opted to keep her company. She did not notice when boys' eyes _twinkled _and she most certainly did not walk of piers when boys _waved_ at her!

She had never – not even when she'd dated Eamon Finch-Fletchy, not even in those moments with Rurik –_ever _felt so helplessly, romantically affected by someone. There _had _to be an explanation for it.

And so, that night, with all the questions and panic eating away at her sanity, Charlie finally sought someone with whom to share her burden.

The fire was dying in the hearth when she descended into the Common Room. It was past eleven at least and most Gryffindors had gone upstairs to bed. Charlie spotted Pete in an armchair in the corner of the room, scribbling determinedly across a long roll of parchment. In the chair next to him, covered by a woollen poncho of some sort as she read what was probably a Quidditch magazine, was Mac.

Charlie approached with a grim smile and the younger girl absently shuffled over and lifted the poncho for her to huddle under. It was a cozy fit, and Charlie's smile became less troubled as Mac brought her legs across her lap so that her feet hung over the arm of the chair.

"Would you like some tea?" asked Mac, not taking her eyes off the magazine. "Pete, pass my cup."

Peter, engrossed in the essay he was writing, obediently passed the cup from the round coffee table with hardly so much as a glance.

Charlie took a sip of the drink, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. She relaxed into the cushions of the chair and the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind calmed for that moment. Her eyes flicked to Pete, who had barely acknowledged her arrival, and then to Mac, whose eyes were absolutely focused behind reading glasses. Her heart swelled with affection.

It was a wonder how her friends could make her feel welcome without even a hello. It made her think of the girls in her dormitory, and how despite the fact that they could now – finally – call themselves genuine friends, Charlie doubted she would ever feel this at ease with them.

As if reading her mind, Mac murmured, "How're things upstairs for you now? I never got to ask you about Girls Night."

Pete made a strange noise and his quill slipped from his fingers. They watched as it lightly touched to the ground before he snatched it up and turned to Charlie excitedly.

"You were invited to _Girls Night_?' he asked. "Is it true that they practice… _you know_ – with like … cucumbers?"

"Shut up Pete!" cried Charlie, affronted. "_No_, it is _not _true."

"Go write your essay somewhere else, you pervy bastard," Max muttered with disgust.

"I was finished, actually." He packed up his stationary with a sour face in their direction. "I've got detention in the morning."

"Still serving with McGonagall?" asked Mac, referring to the punishment Pete had accepted last term as suicide prankster.

"Yep. Finishes tomorrow though." He raised a triumphant fist as he began mounting the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

"An honourable man!" Mac called after him.

"Listen, Mac," Charlie turned to her seriously as Pete disappeared. "... Can I talk to you?"

She chewed her lip as Mac frowned and removed her reading glasses.

"Sure," she said, concerned. "Of course. What's wrong?"

It was a good few seconds before Charlie could actually get the words out.

"I didn't tell you the truth about ... well, about a lot of things."

And so, finally, she told someone. She told Mac everything. Of course, she already knew about all that happened on the night of Aurnerie's farewell ball, and the lapses of attraction that had followed the next few days, but she – like Sirius – had no idea that it had continued. Charlie confessed to lying when she'd said walking off the pier and knocking herself unconscious by tripping through the portrait hole had all been results of her own two left feet. She told Mac all about her bouts of jealousy... about how she found herself praying that Sirius would say no when Felicity asked him to Slughorn's party... about how every time she made _eye contact _with him Charlie found herself smiling... and about the urges to kiss him that were growing in consistency...

"It'sthe potion, Mac! It has to be. Something went wrong and now ..."

"Now you fancy Sirius." Mac's eyes were so huge Charlie could practically see the gears whirring behind them. She nodded frantically and went on to explain how she'd tried to research the potion in _The Willemina and all its Properties_ – and how that had resulted in library duty – and then how she'd gone to aisle 76 just earlier that day and _none _of the books there – not a single one – mentioned any reason for her prolonged symptoms, and now Madame Pince, the crazy old hag, had told Sirius and now _he _was all suspicious and –

"Charlie, this is madness."

"I know – _God, _I hate Errol!"

"No – Charlie – _you're _mad." Mac stared at her in disbelief. "This – this – You're being so _obliviously stupid_!"

Charlie, who had buried her face miserably into the poncho, lifted it and blinked at her friend. "What?"

"Charlie," said Mac firmly, "_You fancy Sirius. _And not because of that sodding flower, but because you snogged the living daylights out of him and it brought back all those feelings you've been keeping locked up since fourth year! And you know what? I bet every one of those 'lapses' you fell into, every time you were compelled to look at him like he was some sort of god – they only reinforced those feelings. Charlie, you and Sirius may have gone into those few days as strictly friends, but you came out of it with a fully refreshed attraction. I told you, didn't I, that you two haven't been this close since fourth year? I did! So now will you stop being such a nervy little bunny and –"

"HEEELP MEEEE!"

James Potter clambered through the portrait hole, panting like a dog and as red as a tomato.

"Somebody!" he roared between gasps, his hands clawing at his own chest. "Anybody! Long nails – a ruler! Somebody help me!"

The poncho fell to the carpet as both Mac and Charlie leapt to their feet. They were the only ones in the Common Room now. James' eyes lit up when he saw them.

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" he praised.

"Aren't you meant to be on rounds?" asked Charlie with alarm as he scrambled towards them, knocking lamp stands and bumping into couches as he made his way across the room.

"I was," he grunted, arms flailing about, moving in a matter of seconds from behind his head to his stomach to his lower back. "And then _this _happened!"

Mac's eyebrows shot up as he yanked his shirt over his head.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Ignoring her, James threw his shirt to the side and – despite her efforts to step away – seized Charlie's hand.

"Charlie," he panted, "here – right here..."

He guided her hand under his right scapula and made scratching motions until, completely bewildered, she obliged.

"Ohhh yes," he shuddered, his skin growing red under her wary fingers. "Ohh sweet mother of... Mac!" He gripped the younger girl by the shoulders and brought her to his other side, grabbing her wrist and slapping it repeatedly against his skin until she, too, began to itch it for him.

As James moaned and muttered, frantically scratching behind his neck and below his ribs, Charlie caught Mac's eye.

"You're wrong," she hissed behind James' back.

Mac shook her head with a glint in her eye and a slight smirk. "I'm right. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

James suddenly exploded with a string of curse words and threw himself down onto the nearby sofa. The girls watched, completely appalled, as he twisted and turned, rubbing his bare skin against the coarse material of the cushions with a crazed determination.

"Don't look at me!" he groaned as he writhed. "Avert your eyes!"

A clambering noise came from the boys stairwell and in the next second, the entire seventh year boys dormitory staggered into the Common Room.

"James!" cried Remus, his face aghast at the disturbing sight that was his best mate. "Who did this to you?"

Charlie knew the answer; she'd known it as soon as he'd staggered into the room – but it was James who answered.

Face red and voice raw, he hissed, "_Evans_."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm not a big fan of the first scene in this chapter, but I do like the second.

Special thanks to those who reviewed, especially those who couldn't review because of the chapter muddle-up, but sent me a personal message or found another way around it :): Kael'thas Sunstrider, AaheliBlack, jasminebrooke, talyag, anonymous "this story makes me happy", Rebakah and Nelle07. It means a lot c:

Next chapter: Quite a busy chapter! Without giving too much away; Sirius corners Charlie about her Willemina research, the repercussions of _that _conversation, and things get hectic as Slughorn's party approaches...

Drop a review!

- the punchline.


	19. She Walked Off a Pier

**Chapter Nineteen - She Walked off a Pier:**

Two days passed in which Charlie thought often about what Mac had said. As much as she tried to banish the thought that maybe – just _maybe..._ maybe this was real? – it kept surfacing in her mind with a Peeves-like demand for attention. It hurt her head. But now that Mac had planted the seed, the idea invaded her thoughts often.

_Maybe she fancied Sirius. Maybe her feelings were real. Maybe the _Nereus Ville _left the picture months ago, but she was just holding onto it because potion induced feelings seemed to make so much more sense than a genuine attraction. _

Why? Because to fancy Sirius ... It just seemed so counter-productive. Sirius didn't go for birds like Charlie; average-looking girls with small boobs, a face devoid of any make-up and hair that was almost always tied in a plain pony tail. Just the fact that they were _mates_; good mates, mates since they were prepubescent; that immediately took her out of list of Women Datable By Sirius Black... didn't it? And besides – where did these feelings even arise from? One day she had no feelings towards Sirius beyond that of her platonic friendship, and the next – she can't stop thinking about him? Okay, well, maybe it didn't quite happen like that. Maybe the _Nereus Ville _played a part in opening her eyes once more to the beauties and attraction of the handsome person that was Sirius Black. But ...

No!

She walked off a pier!

All this _had _to be a result of the _Nereus Ville. _It _had _to.

... Didn't it?

The more these thoughts badgered her brain, the quicker Charlie was to banish them once they resurfaced. Every time the tiny "Maybe I _do _fancy him" thought budded into her conscious, Charlie stamped over it with another question to ponder, mostly the question as to why Sirius had yet to mention the Willemina_. _

She'd been expecting him to grill her the moment he got the chance, because Charlie was almost certain that he was suspicious. How could he not? He wasn't stupid; he would not dismiss her further research into the Willemina as a bit of leisure reading … especially since it was the book she was holding when she walked off the pier.

The absence of confrontation was only making Charlie more nervous, and she knew that he knew it too. On Wednesday night she hadn't even realized she'd been watching him, lost in trying to figure out why he hadn't asked her anything and when he eventually would, until he'd turned to her and said suddenly, with a mischievous light in his eyes, "_Stop _frowning at me."

He knew he was putting her on edge, and _she _knew he was just biding his time.

Finally, when Thursday morning rolled around, he decided to put her out of her misery.

The post swooped through the Great Hall and much to Charlie's delight a tawny owl dropped a small bundle of letters from her family. A letter from Gee was also included (Charlie had convinced her that it was easier if her friends and family just sent all their letters together, rather than Gee sending her mail through the English postage system). She was reading all about Dolly's wedding when –

"So why were you looking up the Willemina, Charl?"

She almost dropped the letter into her eggs. Somehow without her noticing, Sirius had joined them at the Gryffindor table and was now watching her with a succinct expression.

"Just curious," she lied with a shrug.

"The Willemina…" pondered Selwyn next to Sirius. "Where have I heard that?"

Seated on the other side of Selwyn, delicately spooning porridge into her mouth, was Deanna Andromeda. The newly official couple (whose romance was the pride and joy of everyone in – or associated with – the Gryffindor Quidditch team) was taking it in turns to sit with each other's group of friends during meals. On Wednesdays they sat together at Selwyn's end of the table.

"It's the rose that Camden used to try and get into Charlie's knickers last term," Sirius informed him frankly, ignoring Deanna's upward shooting eyebrows and Charlie's own reprimand at his indelicacy. "She's been acting super shifty ever since I found out she was reading up on it."

"Oh." Selwyn pondered for a moment more before turning to Charlie with a sly grin and his own eyebrows raised. "Planning on enchanting a few innocent blokes of your own, eh Charl?"

She ignored him and narrowed her eyes at Sirius. "I have not been acting 'super shifty'," she told him shrewdly. "_So _I researched the flower; I think I had a pretty good reason to."

Suddenly, a great tangle of white landed on the table between them.

"Is that _toilet paper_?" Selwyn immediately began unravelling what was indeed, a large bundle of toilet tissue.

Remus lowered himself into the seat beside Charlie and nodded. "James told me to give it to you. Peeves has gone around and stolen the tissue rolls out of every cubicle in the castle overnight."

They all turned to the rest of the hall and sure enough, James could be seen, along with the Head Girl Felicity Parkinson and the Prefects, grimly parcelling out small rations of paper.

"Good old Peeves," grinned Selwyn as the reset of them leaned forward to grapple lengthy portions. "Got to love his dedication."

* * *

><p>"Oi! Charlie!"<p>

She muttered a curse under her breath. Now that Sirius had made it clear he intended to interrogate her, she wasn't too keen on being in his presence.

"Don't run from me, Frazier."

With a scowl, she slowed her steps. She'd noticed Sirius following her as she left the Great Hall after dinner and had indeed been attempting to outrun him.

She turned agitatedly. "What, Sirius? I've got homework to finish."

"I've got a bone to pick with you," he said, staring her straight in the eye as he approached.

To her own irritation, Charlie couldn't hold his gaze. "What bone?"

He was confident, she could tell. He knew he would be getting answers.

"Are you still feeling effects from the _Nereus Ville_?"

When she didn't answer straight away he added sternly, "Don't lie to me."

Charlie sighed, forcing herself to cool her agitation. Leading him away for the centre of the Entrance Hall, she confessed, "I don't know."

She wasn't sure what answer he'd been expecting, but evidently that was not it.

His eyebrows knitted and he demanded, as if it were absurd, "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I'm not entirely sure," she said, her voice slightly edged.

"But – what you're feeling _can't _be effects from the potion Charl, that's ridiculous, it doesn't have the strength or properties!"

"Yes, well you don't know what I'm feeling so you don't really get a say, I'm afraid!"

Sirius stared at her incredulously, "Wha – What's that supposed to mean?"

"I walked off a _pier, _Sirius."

"Yeah, and said right after that it could have happened to anyone!"

"Well, I was _lying, _Sirius, alright, I don't _know _if – I just – I _don't know!_"

"You _do know_, Charlie – we _agreed. _The potion wore off three days after I kissed you, just as we thought it would. Rurik _said_, and I did my own research too; there's no way you could still be under that spell. It's impossible for the _Nereus Ville_ to have that kind of long-lasting effect. The Willimena doesn't have the necessary properties and –"

But how many times had Charlie heard this? How many times had she read the facts?

"You don't have to remind me, Sirius," she interrupted him impatiently.

"Then what's your problem?"

"My _problem_," she was saying through suddenly gritted teeth, "is that I – have been – _bewitched_."

"I'm telling you," he said forcefully, struggling to keep his voice low, "that you're _not_. You _were _bewitched, but all that ended _months ago_."

"But what if it didn't?" she demanded.

"What do you mean 'what if it didn't', of course it did!"

"Then how come I'm still feeling side effects?"

Suddenly, Sirius was laughing a cruel, furious laugh.

"_Ohh_ my lord," he crowed. "Side effects! Of _course_! And what kind of effects would that be, Frazier?" He voice dripped with sarcasm as he requested, "Please, enlighten me to the symptoms that you are suffering from this _non-existent curse_."

Charlie was glowering. On top of everything; on top of all the confusion, anger and insecurity she was feeling, the _last _thing she needed was for him to be making a mockery of her.

"_Fuck you_, Black," she snarled.

"Fuck me!" he exclaimed with a terrible grin. "And is that one of your symptoms is it? You know, I bet you think it is! All this fucking _sexual tension_ that's been going on – I bet you think it's all just a little mishap – a _side-effect _from the few drops of potion you sipped!"

"Sexual tension?" she repeated, her voice suddenly softer and bitter. "Is that what you think this is?"

He stilled.

"I – I don't know what it is, Charlie," he said, genuinely, but then his eyes glinted once more and he said, "but I sure as hell know it's not a bloody _symptom _from some honourless potion brewed incorrectly under a sixteen year old's bed!"

"You don't know what it's like!" Charlie cried furiously. "You don't know how it feels to not be able to trust your own thoughts – your own emotions! Because I _can't, _Sirius – these feelings … I don't _know _anymore!"

"Oh come off it, Charlie. I don't know what you're on that's got you trying to diagnose your natural feelings as a fucking _illness_–"

"You're such a _git_, Sirius!" she cried, shoving him in the chest. "You're not even trying to understand!"

He barely stumbled back a step before stepping forward closer than before. "_You're _not trying to understand," he growled. "It is _impossible _for you to still be feeling effects from that potion. _Why _is it so hard to accept that what you're feeling is _real_?"

Natural feelings?_ Real_? Did Sirius realise what he was saying?

He shook his head, his lips quirking slightly into a bitter smirk she suddenly despised.

"I never thought you – out of all the girls in this school – would be so stupid, Charlie."

She stared at him coldly. "You're right," she said. "It _was_ pretty stupid thinking you'd understand."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Charlie woke up not knowing what she felt anymore. Her insides were a jumble of humiliation, confusion, anger and vulnerability. Did she have feelings for Sirius? If she did, how could she trust them to be real? The only thing she was sure of was that Sirius had acted like a complete tosser. An insensitive prat. She avoided him all morning. God forbid she see him and be overcome by all that <em>sexual tension.<em>

The thought made her glower as she sat pretending to listen to Professor Slughorn prattle on in Potions.

So, he was feeling it too. Whatever was going on between them, he felt it as well. Could the _Nereus Ville _have effected both of them? Charlie didn't know. And either way, what did he describe it as? _Sexual tension. _Not romance, not genuine attraction – _sexual tension. _Lust. As if it could be fixed by a simple snog. Well, they'd already tried that, and look where it landed them.

Psht. Sexual tension. What if it wasn't the _Nereus Ville_, Sirius? Is that really how he wants to declare his feelings? By identifying _sexual tension_? What a git.

"What's in the box?" whispered Rurik as Slughorn turned to scrawl some key words across the blackboard. He nodded at the parcel that she'd placed at the edge of her table.

She glanced at it.

"James gave it to me."

She'd been on her way to breakfast earlier when the Head Boy had called her from the armchair by the fire. Sirius was lounging on the couch adjacent so she approached reluctantly, making sure to ignore him as she bid James good morning. It wasn't too difficult, as Sirius didn't seem very eager to see her either.

"What're you wearing to Slughorn's?" James had asked.

Remus had been able to counter the Itching Charm Lily cast on him, but the nasty red rashes that seemed to be part of the healing process were only just beginning to fade. Charlie would've been unable to tear her eyes from the one that festered on the side of his neck had she not realized that she'd completely forgotten about the dress-up aspect of the Halloween party.

She swore and told James so, wondering how she was going to pull something together in the next two days.

"No worries, pumpkin pie," he announced, and produced the parcel from beside him, handing it to her with a you're-most-very-welcome grin. "The sales person at Beau and Plumes Costumes mixed up my order and I don't have time to send it back. Happy Halloween!"

Charlie peaked inside the box on her way to Potions and before she could stop it, her lip had curled back in disgust. The abundance of material inside was white, mouldy and – from what she could discern – _frilly_.

_Thanks_, she decided, _but no thanks._

She had just begun to explain this to Rurik when Slughorn paused in his lecture to ask for _silence please,_ while he was teaching such a vital part of the curriculum, eying Charlie in particular. Instead, she scribbled on a piece of loose parchment; _Halloween costume, _and slid it across to him.

He penned something in his neat hand and slid it back: _You're going to Professor Slughorn's party this weekend?_

_Yeah, I thought I might as well, _she wrote, _James can get me in._

Rurik's response didn't come as quickly as the previous. When he slid the parchment to her, his warm fingers grazed hers, and he gave her a small, equally friendly smile.

The parchment read; _Why don't you let me get you in?_

Her lips quirked and she made to glance at him, but the eye contact held as he whispered, "Be my date."

She laughed softly, but hesitated to say yes.

"Come on!" he coaxed with a grin. "It will be fun. Nothing serious."

Charlie laughed again. She knew she shouldn't, and she knew that she would most likely regret it, but then, mostly because his smile was too irresistible, she said, "I'll think about it."

After lunch, she went up to the dormitory to get her books for afternoon classes. When she opened the door, however, it was to a pair of stockings barely missing her nose as it sailed across the room.

She turned in the direction from which the projectile had launched to see Lily Evans standing, hands on hips, before a trunk whose insides were now splattered all over the entire room. Leonie perched nervously on the edge of Lily's bed, eyes wide.

"It's alright!' the timid girl was saying, "It's not too late to send an order to Lolita's –"

"Of _course _it's too late to send an order, Leonie! By the _time_ my owl gets there – oh, hi Charlie."

Lily huffed, sending Charlie an exhausted smile. It was only just past noon.

"If you're looking for a Halloween costume … I have one." She offered the white parcel. Both the other girls' gazes snapped onto it as if Charlie were offering a gallon of Felix Felicis, not the decayed, frilly ensemble that she was.

"N-no," Lily stammered with a chuckle, "don't be silly. That's your costume."

"No, it's not," said Charlie lightly. "A friend gave it to me. The store mixed up his order." She brandished it encouragingly.

"Which friend?" Leonie asked curiously.

"Remus," she said. There was no way Lily would take it off her hands if she knew it were from James.

It took a bit more enticing, but eventually Lily accepted the box with cautious fingers. "Well, I suppose if you really don't want it…"

The redhead gasped as she lifted the lid of the box, and Charlie felt her heart sink.

"It's a bit mouldy," she admitted, "But –"

"_A zombie bride_," whispered Leonie in awe as Lily lifted the dress from the box.

Charlie's eyebrows lifted as the extravagant, puffy dress was revealed. It was ripped here and there, slices of fabric dangling in tatters. Dirt stained the bottom of the skirt and was smudged across the bodice, as well as something that looked convincingly like blood. The mould she'd first seen spotted the entire dress but it only contributed to the effective image that was, without doubt; a zombie bride.

"It's beautiful," sighed Lily, much to Charlie's surprise. "Thanks so much, Charl! You're a life saver!"

"Not a problem," she grinned, before turning to Leonie. "Have you got a costume?"

She nodded happily. "Yeah, I do."

"Lucky. Who're you going with?"

"I'm Lily's plus one," she said with a giggle.

"_Unless_," said Lily dramatically, grinning cheekily at Leonie.

"Shut up!"

"Unless what?" Charlie also grinned, moving across the room to fetch her books.

Leonie was blushing a deep pink. "Unless Rurik asks me," she confessed, embarrassed.

Charlie stiffened. "Oh," she said awkwardly. "Um."

"What's wrong?" asked Lily, eyes already suspicious.

"No," she waved, thinking better of what she'd been about to say and shooting them all a light smile. "It's nothing, don't worry. You were saying?"

Lily narrowed her eyes with a smirk. "No, Charlie… _you _were saying."

She sighed with a laugh before rolling her eyes. "Look, it's just – Rurik already asked me. But it's fine – I haven't said yes, I'll just find him before dinner and tell him I can't and hopefully nudge him in your direction –"

'No!" burst Leonie suddenly. She swallowed, looking upset. "No, don't. If he's already asked you… You should go."

"No – Leonie, it's nothing – it's fine, we're just friends –"

"Well you clearly want to!"

Charlie blinked. "What?"

Leonie averted her gaze, biting her lip as if she hadn't meant to say anything at all.

"What do you mean? I haven't said yes, Leonie – "

"You see! You may not have said yes yet, Charlie, but I'll bet a galleon you haven't said no either."

"Leonie –"

The door to the dormitory swung open and Sara walked in, looking weary.

"Oh, I'm having such a horrid day," she sighed upon seeing the three of them. "Samson Boot, may I just say, was completely unfazed by your unavailability, Lily, and has rebounded most violently onto yours truly… What's going on?"

Her level gaze flitted from Lily's tense one to Leonie's, which was watery, and then to Charlie's, which was completely confounded.

"Come on, out with it!" she ordered.

Twisting her hands, Leonie muttered darkly (or as darkly she could manage), "Charlie's going with Rurik to Professor Slughorn's party."

Sara's eyebrows lifted. She stared at the two of them for a long moment throwing her hands on her hips with a huff.

"That's it!" she exclaimed loudly. "I'm sick of you all – _all _of you- and your barmy, air-headed infatuation with my cousin!"

"A-_all _of us?" spluttered Lily, who clearly considered herself exempt from any barmy, airheaded behaviour.

"_Barmy_?" repeated Leonie in the same scandalised tone.

"I expected better from you three! _They're intelligent witches, _I told myself, _it won't be long before they start deflecting him_ – I even convinced myself that you'd figure it out for yourself eventually! But no! Here we are, _months _after he's arrived, and you're on the verge of tears over being his date to a Halloween party! A belated one at that! Oh, I _told _Mother it was a bad idea to bring him here, especially after what happened at Durmstrang, but _'He's family,_' she said, _'Do you expect him to go without education?'_ And of course, they're all so proud of him because he's agreed to management classes, wants to _'live life as a normal boy' _he said, but of course they'd have to burn off his face for that to happen –"

"Sara!" Leonie gasped.

"I never thought the girls here would be so fickle," muttered the dark-haired girl. "I'm sick of it. So I'm going to tell you – I'm going to snap you out of it – and I bloody well hope you thank me for it."

"Sara, what are you talking about?" asked Charlie.

She glared at them all. "My uncle's wife is beautiful. Blonde-haired, blue eyed. She's a _Veela_. ... And Rurik's their half-wizard son."

Leonie gave a small squeak. Lily dropped the zombie bride costume. Charlie's mouth fell open.

"You mean ... you mean Rurik's half-Veela?" she whispered, thinking of the beautiful semi-magical, semi human beings that, when angered, transformed into vicious Harpie-like creatures. There was an entire chapter on Veelas in her Defence Against the Dark Arts book. There were very few cases of inter-marriage with wizards.

"Yes," said Sara, the anger gone from her voice now that the secret was spilled. "But you can't tell anyone. And you definitely can't let it slip to him that you know." She smirked, "It's the Cunningham skeleton, I'm afraid."

"So then... that blankness... that happy, blissfulness that you get when he looks at you ..." Leonie's brown eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "It's Veela magic? It's not ... it's not ... genuine?"

Sara nodded grimly. "Sorry Leonie."

They was a very pregnant pause as each of them became lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually, Lily murmured, "It's terrible that he's had to keep his true identity a secret."

Leonie looked on the verge of tears once more. "Why didn't he tell anyone?"

Sara scoffed. "It would be the same as announcing he was half-giant, Leonie. Or a werewolf, even!"

Lily nodded. "He wouldn't be received very well at all. Parents would be claim he was a danger to be around, with an inherited temper like that, and even that he was ensnaring their daughters. Although ... he sort of has been." Lily frowned. "How _was _he allowed into Hogwarts?"

"And what happened at Durmstrang?" asked Charlie.

Sara sighed and sat at the edge of her bed. "He resembles his father more than his mother – obviously, since he's a brown-haired bloke."

"He's got his mother's eyes though," said Charlie softly.

"Yes. He has. And you're right as well Lily; he has inherited his mother's temper. Mind, he doesn't grow a beak and scaly wings if you eat the last pumpkin pastie – but I've seen him when he's really furious. It can get scary, I'll admit. It's like he turns into another person."

"You've seen him?" Leonie asked.

"When we were kids. But anyway, he was captain of his Quidditch team at Durmstrang – and you know how seriously they take it there. He took his team into the final last year but apparently the opposition was playing foully and ended up knocking one of his chasers right off her broom. Rurik got angry. _Really _angry. They called it 'an episode', but it was bad enough that Rurik, being the nice boy he is, didn't want to go back to a school that pinned upon him such a reputation. He started taking management classes, for both his anger and his Veela charm – what you girls have experienced is half of what it used to be. He dropped his captain title and transferred... but even with the management, Dumbledore was the only person who would take him."

Charlie and the others descended into a shocked silence as the information sank in. This whole time ... Rurik had been half-_Veela_? This whole time... all those moments of pure admiration that she'd come to accept, despite her former no-swooning principles... She'd thought perhaps she was going soft, but no... Rurik was _half-Veela._

Sara shrugged. "He's such a nice boy though. I feel sorry for him... Apart from anger management issues and the prejudice he'll always be subjected to, I suppose he'll also always have the constant struggle of judging whether or not someone likes him for him, or for his Veela magic. I know when Mother found out her brother had eloped with a Veela... she and the rest of the family were furious. They hated Aunty Sasha – that's her, the Veela – they were convinced she was just keeping him under her enchantments. They're still a bit suspicious at times, I think. But personally, I'm sure it's love. I've seen the way he looks at her, and she him. It's magic, but ... a different kind." She smiled wryly.

"Anyway, we're getting off topic! _You two_," she eyed Charlie and Leonie sternly. "I don't want to hear any more squabbling! Neither of you should be looking to get involved with Rurik unless you can prove it's true love! Otherwise – as much as I'd rather not admit, and although he is getting help for it – it's just too risky. Besides, Charlie, you've got Sirius." She paused to further narrow her eyes at them before emphasising, "_Do you understand?"_

All three girls nodded mutely.

* * *

><p>The next day after lunch, Sirius ventured into the courtyards, his mood sour. He'd asked Selwyn to pass a platter of sandwiches and, after he also had strained to reach them, Charlie seized it instead and handed it to Sirius. Her eyes –which held his for barely a moment – were still stony as they regarded him.<p>

It had been two days since he'd lost his temper with her, but it still made his jaw grit when he thought of how sodding _unreasonable _she was being. She was convinced that the relationship he'd been so careful in developing with her, for the first time since fourth year, was all the result of a bloody love potion. And Errol Camden's love potion, no less! How much of a fool had he felt, trying to persuade her into believing she felt the same way about him that he felt about her?

He remembered the look on her face when he'd made the comment about sexual tension. _Sexual tension. _That – in his heated, boyish ways – is what he'd called it. Merlin, he was such a wanker!

He sat heavily on a bench, his hands going to rub at his eyes. _Two days._ Though with all the meals and classes she'd spent seated as far from him as subtly possible… it felt as if they hadn't spoken for a week.

When did she get so frustrating?

A group of students walked by and Sirius recognized Errol Camden's uneven voice amidst the babble. He glanced up with a scowl and sure enough there he was, glasses quivering frailly on his large ears.

"Maybe I could be _your _invite," he was saying, looking embarrassed with his own suggestion. Sirius knew immediately that he was talking about Slughorn's party. His brief interest extinguished, he stood to find James.

"Sorry, Errol, but I'm already taking Charlie."

Sirius' eyes snapped back to the Ravenclaws, interest rekindled. He recognized the smarmy accent at once.

Rurik was taking Charlie to Slughorn's party. Rurik. With _Charlie. _He was, of course, a member of the _prestigious _Slug Club. Sirius glowered. His arms clenched at the thought of the two of them dancing again like they had at Aurnerie's ball. He'd pretended not to notice, but the slimy git had spent _four dances _with his arms around her.

Another gaggle of Ravenclaws passed and one broke off to approach Sirius. It was Felicity Parkinson.

"Hi, Sirius," she smiled. When he didn't respond right away, she irritably popped out a hip and with a huff, clicked her fingers in his face. "_Sirius_."

"Hey," he replied once he'd managed to tear his eyes off the back of that tidy, pompous little head. "If you're looking for James, I've no idea where he is. Oh – but he said that if I saw you I should assure you that hallway patrols have been secured for tomorrow night and –"

"Thank you," she interjected quickly. "But I'm not here for that."

She straightened with a familiarly suggestive quirk in her eyebrow and a slight, equally suggestive smile.

"Do you remember in fifth year…" she leant forward, watching Sirius from beneath lowered lashes, "how we were an item?"

Sirius eyed her skeptically. "We snogged in a broom cupboard after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup," he reminded, wondering how much their definition of 'an item' varied.

She smirked. "_Several_ times."

Sirius sighed. "It was one night, Felicity, but yes – I remember. Now what's it to you?"

She was grinning now as she leaned yet more forward and endearingly, like an excited child after a thrilling rollercoaster ride, whispered; "Let's do it again."

* * *

><p>AN: Oh, Felicity.

A lot has happened, guys! Drop a review, share your thoughts!

Special thanks for my lovely reviewers Nelle07, talyag, potterforever098, Rusichan, rae-rae89, WasabiWarrior 101, Hellfire Putten Ninja and slythernprincess! :)

Next chapter: The day of Slughorn's spectacularly belated Halloween Party.

Thanks for reading, I do hope you enjoyed it!

- the punchline.


	20. Dear Felicity in the Lead

**Chapter Twenty - Dear Felicity in the Lead:**

On Saturday morning, Charlie ate breakfast with Remus and Peter. James, still upset over Gryffindor's shameless loss to Ravenclaw, had hauled the team onto the pitch at dawn where they remained three hours later, still running drills and practicing manoeuvres.

"Obviously," he'd snarled the previous night, after announcing the training plans, "we overestimated our natural ability last match! Thought we could wing it! But _now we know: _WE ARE NOTHING – WITHOUT – PRACTICE."

As Charlie, Pete and Remus discussed the improved range of Filibuster's fireworks (Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat), she glanced down the house table and saw Leonie sitting with Sara and Lily. The curly-haired girl caught her gaze and quickly returned to her porridge without so much as a smile.

Charlie pursed her lips. Despite what Sara had warned them about Rurik, Leonie was still being slightly cold towards her. It seemed she still regarded Charlie's reluctance to reject the half-Veela as some sort of betrayal against Leonie herself. Charlie sighed. _She'll get over it with time. _

After breakfast, she took her books to the library. Her afternoon services had lessened her intolerance of the place, and there were times when she even found the muffled silence now comforting.

She spent a good three hours finishing an Arithmancy chart, then writing up a Charms essay and a Potions evaluation. Feeling fairly proud of the products of her labour, she left her study desk (one she particularly remembered scrubbing a vivid diagram of the male genitalia off of) to return a borrowed textbook.

Knowing the library as well as she did, Charlie took a shortcut through the back aisles. She was about to turn into Aisle 242 (one of the very last) to make her way into the Alchemic History section when the stifled, yet unmistakable sounds of a couple snogging made her slow to a wary halt.

She held a quick internal debate of two sides: either turn back and take a doubly long route to return her book, or continue up the dark aisle and, with false authority, completely demerit and banish the reckless couple. Deciding up on the latter, she rounded the corner with trepidation... and almost screamed at what she saw.

About halfway up the aisle, two students were kissing passionately against the shelf. And there was no mistaking who those two students were.

"Lily?" she choked, stumbling forward. "_James?"_

They jumped apart at once, Lily shoving James so hard he almost hit the next shelf.

"Charlie!" she squeaked. Her hair was mussed and her cherry lip gloss smudged.

Charlie's mouth hung open. Her eyes felt as if they were going to dry up, she couldn't stop staring. She felt a tick developing in her left one.

James wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his dirt-smeared Quidditch robe, unable to keep a smirk off his face.

"Hey Frazier. Lily was just, er ... helping me get rid of a little _itch." _

No doubt, he thought this was funny because of the rashes. Lily obviously didn't think so. She shrieked at him to shut up.

Charlie thought she was going to faint.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, she was hurrying across the west bridge with no particular direction other than away from the library. Her breathing was on the verge of hyperventilation as she tried to come to terms with the secret she had just come privy to.<p>

Despite her prior suspicions that yes, perhaps Lily's hatred towards James was turning into more of a facade, a product of habit more than anything else ... having the proof thrust before her in such an _inappropriate _manner was something like a life-changing experience.

_Lily _and _James?_

Charlie shuddered.

She was nearing the Defence classrooms on the other side when Rurik strolled into view.

"What's wrong? You seem tense," he frowned when she attempted a weak smile.

"It's nothing, just - you know… work."

Somewhere between the couple trying to explain themselves and Charlie fleeing in the opposite direction, gasping that she didn't want to know or understand any part of their warped love/hate affair – they had made her swear not to tell a single soul.

"Come here," said Rurik, pulling her towards a large arched window. "I will make you feel better."

They sat down and he began to softly massage her shoulders. True to his word, it felt heavenly. Charlie let her shoulders droop and gazed despondently at the floor, lost in her thoughts.

After a while, he asked, "Have you decided whether you would like to be my date tonight? I have not asked anyone else, you know."

Charlie sighed. She'd forgotten about his proposal, but either way she knew her answer.

"Rurik ..." she squirmed, "I don't think ..."

"Ah." He paused in his ministrations before moving lower to rub her arms comfortingly. But then he paused again, this time with his fingers tensing, and asked, "Is it because of my cousin Sara?"

Charlie tensed also. _You definitely can't let it slip to him that you know. _

"No," she said. "Not because of Sara."

"Then... someone else?"

Charlie slumped once more. "It's because of Leonie, Rurik. She fancies you." But then she winced, remembering Sara's other words. _Neither of you should be looking to get involved with Rurik ... It's just too risky._

Rurik's hands were still on Charlie's arms.

"Leonie... Franks?" he asked. "Ah. Yes... I have noticed a little, I think. But Charlie," her took her chin in his hand and tilted her face towards him with a small smile, "it cannot be helped that I do not return those feelings."

Charlie stared at him, wide-eyed. Her chin felt awkward at this angle and his fingers felt... grubby.

"Leonie is a nice girl," he continued, with his slight Russian burr and kind smile, "but I am not attracted to her."

"Yes," said Charlie, "but –"

"No 'but', Charlie."

He leaned forward. He was going to kiss her. At once, a distant part of her mind revolted, but then his beautiful blue eyes met hers, and Charlie felt herself lean in also. _Rurik was going to kiss her. _Her mind grew foggy with that one blissful thought, but soon even that begin to disperse. He was growing closer, and her mind was going blank ...

_It's the Veela magic. _

Charlie jerked away with a small cry. Screwing her eyes shut, she leapt to her feet and yelped, "Rurik!"

Her eyes opened to see him watching her, looking gorgeously confused. Quickly, before he could affect her again, she blurted, "I can't go with you tonight. I don't want to. I'm sorry. I'll see you later."

And then, for the second time that day, she fled.

* * *

><p>She spent the rest of the day in her dormitory, finishing every piece of homework she'd been assigned and then writing a letter, devoid of any real substance, to Gee. She was still feeling dismal when at last the sun began to set, splaying ribbons of its golden light across the Hogwarts grounds. The dormitory door swung open and Lily, Sara and Leonie bustled inside.<p>

"Come on, Charl, it's time to get ready!" sung Sara, and she threw something bright orange into her lap.

Charlie grimaced, watching the three girls spread across the room and pull out their costumes. Sara unfolded a white Roman toga.

"I think I'm going to pass on tonight," said Charlie, fingering the orange material. "I'm not feeling too well..."

"Bollocks!" cried Sara. "I knew you'd say that! So did your friend Mac Ackerley – she gave me that costume to give to you."

The more Charlie protested, the more Sara insisted. Eventually, simply because to protest any longer would only drive her steeped irritation into outright anger, she pulled on the costume and allowed Sara to powder her face before tying her hair into her regular pony tail.

"Really?" asked Sara, eying the plain hair style.

Charlie frowned grumpily. "It goes with the costume."

A velvet blanket of darkness had descended over Hogwarts when the four Gryffindor girls finally ascended the stairwell to Slughorn's quarters.

Lily hung back when they reached the landing so that she and Charlie could walk together. The two of them had barely spoken in the dormitory. Every time Lily tried to make conversation, Charlie's mind was bombarded with the vision of what she'd witnessed in the library and she could only stammer and mumble out a jerky response.

"Oh, stop it!" Lily now hissed, catching Charlie's uncomfortable glance her way. The redhead was looking very impressive in her dirt-smeared wedding dress and purposely tangled, wild red locks. She wore very pale makeup, save for the dark circles around her eyes and the deep, dark maroon of her lips. When she smiled, her teeth were bewitched to appear as if they were rotting – but only slightly. ("I don't want to look _completely_ repulsive, just enough to lend some authenticity…").

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" she demanded.

Charlie shook her head.

"Good," Lily exhaled. The look she next gave Charlie seemed almost vulnerable. "I didn't get to tell you this before, because – well – you ran away." She stopped walking and touched Charlie's arm nervously. "Please don't … don't think any less of me because of what you saw. I mean, I know I've always said I hated James, but…" For the first time, Lily Evans seemed not to know what she wanted to say.

Taking advantage of the silence, Charlie (after deciding a few answers wouldn't hurt) asked, "How long have you two been … you know?"

"Not long!" Lily shook her head, eyes earnest. "Only a few days, really…." She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more, but hesitated.

Again, Charlie leapt in. "He really fancies you, you know. _Genuinely. _It's not all talk."

Lily's eyes downcast. "I know."

Charlie watched her for a second.

"Don't hurt him."

She hesitated before turning and hurrying to catch up with Leonie and Sara, who, ablaze in the block of light that shone out of Slughorn's quarters and into the darkening halls, were eagerly passing a suit of armour and through the open threshold. As Charlie approached the arched entrance, the guarding armour lowered its flag bearer ominously across her path. The light from the party flooded her face and she squinted a little as she informed it mildly that she was 'attending at the request of Prongs'.

The armour retracted the flag bearer with a stiff nod and Charlie entered, Lily following soundlessly behind.

The ceilings and walls had been draped with gold and fiery orange hangings; the room was filled by the emberish glow from various lamps throughout the room. It looked to Charlie as if they were all standing inside a vast, glowing jack-o-lantern. The room was crowded with a selection of Hogwarts students (mostly from senior year levels) and various other associates of Slughorn's, most of whom seemed to have forgone costumes. Live bats, possibly the same ones that flew about during Hogwarts' own Halloween feast, swooped from the rafters, fluttering in and out of the ceiling drapes while a thin, sallow looking man with an innumerable amount of fingers dramatically played an organ at the far end of the room.

"Devilled Hugglebird eggs, m'lady?"

Her mood lifted at once, and Charlie grinned at Selwyn as he flourished a tray of delicacies under her nose, only to frown as she took in his sharp bow tie and black tuxedo.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned. "This is my costume."

"Oh! Really?"

His face fell before he smirked wryly. "Nah. I'm serving – Slughorn's paying me well, you see, and I'm saving for that new Cleansweep. Dad's old Shooting Star's got this incurable left lean."

He scowled upon noticing her costume.

"Oh, so all of a sudden you're a fan of – not only the disgraceful Chudley Cannons – but shamelessly short skirts as well?"

Charlie made a face, tugging at the hem of her violent orange cheerleader uniform. "It happens to be your sister's!"

Selwyn's lip curled. "Of course it is."

He strode off to serve a pair of Hufflepuff witches, leaving Charlie alone to wander through the decorated room until someone grabbed her from behind. It was Lily.

"Who did you say gave you this dress?" she asked with a tremble of panic, her voice close to Charlie's ear.

Charlie turned with caution. "Remus?"

Lily looked as if she were about to cry. "Then how –"

"LILY FLOWER." James was striding towards them with a massive smile gracing his features.

Charlie's eyes widened. His skin was almost as pale as Lily's. He also had dark circles under his eyes.

"Oh no," Lily whimpered.

"James," demanded Charlie, "are you a –"

"A zombie groom!" he declared with flare. "_What – a – coincidence, _Lilypad, that the two of us have decided upon these obviously complementing costumes. There is only one explanation for it, I'm afraid, and we must embrace it with pride: _we are soulmates._" He bowed gallantly, his hair almost grazing the floor. "My bride."

"I'm leaving," said Lily flatly, whirling around.

"For the dance floor, I hope!" James caught her arm merrily and waltzed the two of them off, ignoring her indignant protests.

"Little prat!" Charlie exclaimed with revelation as Pete, having approached behind James, drew up beside her. "This was all a well-schemed ploy wasn't it? He _knew _I'd never wear anything that frilly! ... Slimy git."

Charlie did a double take upon noticing Pete's costume.

"Pete! _Why_ are you dressed as a kneazle?" She took in his pink, fluffy roundness with disdain as he dismissively munched on a savoury.

"See that bird over there?" He nodded towards one the Hufflepuffs Selwyn was chatting to. "Overheard her talking in Care of Magical Creatures. Loves kneazles, she does. All she wants to do when she sees one is cuddle the brains out of it."

Charlie raised her eyebrows, impressed with his game strategy.

"Go talk to her," she encouraged. "Selwyn will introduce you."

Finishing his food, Pete dusted his hands.

"Yeah, I think I will." He puffed out his chest and strode off as purposefully as one dressed as a kneazle can.

For a while, Charlie mingled. She weaved through guests, holding conversation with various students and acquaintances. One man, who Slughorn later pointed out to be the elderly Gringotts architect Gregory Hathaway, was delighted by her costume choice and launched into a reminiscent retelling of the last time the Cannons won the League Cup – when he was six and a half years old. At one point, she passed a group of serious looking warlocks, each puffing on pipes that emitted hazy lavender coloured smoke. She must have inhaled some, because a wispy tickle remained in her throat long enough for her to seek out the drinks table in order to try and flush it down. She found such a table, bedecked with an assortment of coloured glass bottles, and poured herself a red, sweet smelling juice.

As she sipped, she spotted Pete sitting rather close to the pink-cheeked, giggling Hufflepuff and smiled. Then she noticed that James and Lily were no longer on the dance floor – and couldn't be seen anywhere else in the room either. Her expression darkened, thinking about where they had disappeared off to and why. Randy teenagers.

She took another sip of what she now assumed was cranberry juice and noticed Sara also making her way to the drink table. With a surprised, hopeful little squeeze of her insides, Charlie saw that Leonie was following pleasantly behind.

Up in the dormitory Charlie had been contemplating whether or not she should tell Leonie about what Rurik had said, about not being able to return her feelings. She hadn't been able to make a decision, and at that moment Charlie was glad for it. She had a feeling that if she had said something, Leonie wouldn't be looking as good-natured as she did now. Her eyes, like Sara's, danced in the light and she looked as if she were about to smile at Charlie (truly smile!) when her eyes suddenly grew troubled and she very quickly distracted Sara. They chatted for a moment before Sara nodded and grinned, and they began to move in the opposite direction.

Charlie frowned. What had –

She turned to her side, where Rurik was quietly pouring himself a drink.

"Rurik!" she started, though regretted it almost instantly once she saw the disappointment with which he regarded her. Guilt washed over her as she remembered the confusion in his eyes as she'd blurted out her rejection. She offered him a slight smile. "... Hello."

"Hello Charlie."

_Why _had she let Sara convince her to attend?

As Rurik finished pouring his drink, Charlie closed her eyes, took one deep breathe, and then turned to him and said, "Look, Rurik... I'm sorry about what happened earlier today. Honestly, I didn't mean for it to come out so harshly."

Rurik shook his head. "Do not apologise, Charlie. I should not have tried to kiss you. I just ... forgive me for sounding so conceited, but... most girls like it when I try to kiss them."

Charlie bet they did.

There was an edge to Rurik's voice, and perhaps that's why Charlie was so eager to make sure, "We're still friends, right?"

He took a sip of his drink before answering.

"Yes," he nodded, though his mouth was a firm line. "We will be."

She nodded too, hating the tension that still hung in the air. In further efforts to apologise, she murmured after a pause, "I didn't know you felt that way."

Rurik straightened. "I should go," he said roughly, and downed his drink. "Besides, I do not believe this one is too fond of me." He nodded to where Sirius was making his way over from the entrance before striding off into the crowd of guests.

Charlie hastily sipped the last of her juice and tried to follow suit – but she wasn't quick enough. By the time she'd set her glass down and turned, Sirius was blocking her path.

He seemed as surprised by the sudden confrontation as she was, though it was she who after hesitating uttered the first quick, "Hi."

"Hi," he returned. He looked tensely down at her and she looked back. She noticed the unmistakable imprint of two turquoise-painted lips on his right cheek and, struggling to keep her face neutral, forced herself to focus on the rest of his make-up.

"Let me guess," she said, taking in the now familiar dark circles and pale skin, coupled with his dusty, rotting tuxedo. "Zombie best man."

"Got it in one," he congratulated her mildly. He took her costume in with one long, sweeping glance, one that – although not much different from the one Selwyn had given her earlier – had Charlie's cheeks tinge with pink.

Sirius was an avid fan of the Chudley Cannons.

An unmistakable smirk lifted at the very corner of his lips as he moved past her to pour a drink.

Charlie watched him, feeling apprehensive. They hadn't spoken properly for days and she was beginning to think that perhaps she was being too stubborn… After all, they were meant to be friends, weren't they?

Someone slipped passed her to stand close to Sirius, placing their well-manicured hand on his bicep.

It was Felicity Parkinson, and she accepted a drink from him before the two of them turned and she noticed Charlie.

"Hello," she said after a moment of eying her from top to bottom, though the impatient, demanding gaze which she fixed upon her suggested she didn't mean the word as a simple greeting. Charlie ignored this.

"Hi," she said with faux cheer. Her gaze flicked between the renown Head Girl and Sirius with a sour amusement. Felicity _had _asked him to the party. And he _had _said yes.

Her eyes locked with Sirius'. Dressed as an aquamarine mermaid, with coloured strips running through her blonde hair and a glistening, scaly aqua tail from which her feet protruded (with toes painted a matching shade); Felicity's lipstick was the exact turquoise that marked his cheek.

"Did you want a drink or something?" asked Felicity loudly, clearly not happy with the staring match between Charlie and her date.

Charlie tore her gaze from Sirius' hard one and regarded the ill-tempered Ravenclaw with another wry grin. She shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks_._"

She shot one last look at Sirius, who stared back unashamed, and turned to leave when out of nowhere, Professor Slughorn appeared and seized her by the shoulders. He was dressed as an Arabian sultan, in shimmering burgundy trousers with a matching vest and turban.

"Miss _Frazier_!" he exclaimed jovially, as if seeing her was the highlight of the past decade. Obviously, the professor had been poured a firewhiskey glass too many since the last time they'd spoken.

"Good evening," she told him, amused.

"Do you _hear _that?"

"Hear what, sir?"

His eyes twinkled and his lips stretched wide. "They're beginning the Courtship, my dear!"

Indeed, the opening melody of the traditional dance could be heard from the organ. With one quick look Charlie noticed that witches and warlocks, along with pairs of Hogwarts' students, were taking to the centre of the room, which seemed to have been cleared for the dance.

"…such prestige – my favourite dance by far!" Slughorn was saying, his round face rather excited beneath the turban and close to Charlie's. "I do insist that we all join in!"

Charlie laughed politely. "It is a beautiful dance sir, but I think I'll sit out today."

"Nonsense! I won't hear of it!" His grip tightened on her arm and he moved as if he was going to fling her onto the dance floor himself, but Charlie dug her heels in.

"I – I don't know how!" she blurted. This was a lie; she danced it almost every year at the Potter's Christmas party.

At this Slughorn looked absolutely affronted.

"Nonsense!" he cried again. His gaze latched onto Sirius with a fierce determination. "Black!"

He thrust Charlie forward triumphantly (who despite herself shot Sirius a pleading look) and all but shouted, "Here's a man who knows how to dance the Courtship! Saw it with my own eyes at Aurnerie's ball! A superb dancer! One simply cannot say no to a partner such as Mr Sirius Black!"

Sirius grimaced. "Er – Professor, I –"

"And such good friends the two of you are!" Slughorn beamed, grasping Sirius by the shoulder and bringing the two of them together in a violent collision. "Such a solid mateship! Off you go!"

"What about me?" snapped Felicity, eyes narrowed at the drunken professor.

"So eager!" moaned Slughorn, sounding as if he was being brought to tears. "Come, Miss Parkinson, our most _gracious_ Head Girl. It will be my honour to be your partner... Don't _dawdle, _Black, the first verse is about to start!" He gave both Sirius and Charlie what he might have meant to be a light push, but really propelled them forward with an almost unbreakable momentum.

They stumbled onto the dance floor, Sirius holding Charlie around her waist until she gained her balance. From there, they glanced at each other awkwardly and, seeing as they were in the thick of couples arranging themselves in diagonal rows, reluctantly put their palms together and moved into position.

The opening melody changed keys and the tempo increased; the formation of couples began to move.

The Courtship was an interpretation of a classical wizard's love story. The steps of the dance portrayed the persistence of a warlock to woo his witch and began accordingly with the couple dancing distantly, the female's steps showing reluctance while the wizard smoothly pulls her ever closer. Eventually, the partners find themselves holding each other, and the music decrescendos into a romantic ending.

Charlie tried not to think too about this 'romantic' ending as she and Sirius moved two stoic steps, _back_, and forward, and _back_ – and, _one_, two, three – tap – _one_, two, three – Charlie stretched out to the side, touching her palm with – to her surprise – Selwyn, who had found a young ministry lady to share the dance with. She smiled at his cocky grin before swirling back to face Sirius, and then back to touch hands with Selwyn – who winked – and then back to Sirius who, if anything, was looking bored.

They continued the next steps of the Courtship in much the same, tense fashion until, when Sirius' hand moved hers in a gentle circle before holding it against Charlie's hip, she asked quietly, "Why are you with her?"

His grey eyes locked onto hers, searching them for something. Charlie refused to look away.

"She asked me," he murmured eventually, his gaze shifting to stare passed her head. "She asked, and – since anyone else I'd rather go with already had a date – I said yes."

Charlie couldn't pretend this didn't sting. Dateless and alone, what was she?

"Why?" asked Sirius, still in that cold gravelly murmur, as he spun her out and then pulled her closer by the waist. He glanced at her for a mere second, "Does it bother you?"

She spun again. This time swallowing before she came back and replied simply, "She's a bitch."

Sirius' eyes flashed.

"Yeah?" he challenged, as they joined the other couples in forming a large ring and began to rotate, each couple weaving in, out and between each other lithely. "Well she's one hell of a better date than your partner."

Charlie frowned. "_What_?"

"At least _she_ wanted to dance with me," he said. "_Your _date left you at the drinks table all on your lonesome and look –" He caught her hand and twirled her out once more (Charlie was beginning to feel dizzy) before tugging her in so that her back collided with his chest. She gasped before feeling his breath against her ear: "He's found another bird to dance the Courtship with. Isn't that just _charming?"_

Charlie, her breath coming shallow, stared at the couple across the circle. It was Rurik. He was grinning, and holding none other than a blushing Leonie against his chest.

"Yes," sneered Sirius in her ear. "I think that puts dear Felicity in the lead."

Charlie glared and pushed out of his embrace, spinning once more before coming back in, chest to chest.

"Rurik's not my date," she told him coldly. "He asked me, but I said no."

Sirius missed a step. Charlie's scowl deepened as they bumped into a middle-aged couple.

"What?" he asked once they'd straightened themselves out. His hand was on the small of her back now, holding her flush against him as her hand rested on his shoulder. "Why?"

When she didn't answer straight away, his lips twisted and he leered with false romanticism, "Was it because you _just weren't feeling the side-effects_?"

The ring of dancing couples had dispersed back across the floor. The pace of the music slowed, being stripped back down to that lovely base melody. Charlie and Sirius danced the light steps in the centre of the floor, their movements terse with anger.

"Oh, I was definitely feeling _something_," she bit as she stepped around him, hands slipping over his shoulders. She moved to face him once more. "I could barely think over all the _sexual tension."_

Sirius smirked sourly, and suddenly – seized her around the waist and all but threw her into a low dip.

Heart pounding, Charlie stared with surprise into his calm face. This was not the typical ending of the Courtship. In fact, all around them ladies were curtsying as their male counterparts held their hand and bowed deeply.

Sirius smirked lightly, his nose only inches from hers. "Could cut it with a knife, couldn't you?"

* * *

><p>AN: What do you think? Drama, drama, drama.

I thought I might let you know that, yes, we really are getting into the thick of things now, and the following chapters will be similarly dramatic. Gone are the days of chapters consisting of seemingly pointless banter, my faithful readers! I hope you're excited (:

I have a question from which I would really appreciate as many answers as possible. So yes, I am appealing to those who have been silently reading thus far with no review or comment, because I know you must have _some _opinion. **Who is your favourite character, and if it's not too difficult, why? **I'm not expecting essays, guys, even a simple "Mac, because she tells it like it is" or perhaps "Lily, because she knows how to satisfy James' itch". Or, if even that'stoo hard, just a drop a name and I will be grateful! I'm just curious to see what aspects of my characters are appreciated. Thanks guys, your input will be immensely helpful and eternally appreciated :)

Special thanks to my ace reviewers: Putten, MisfiredSynapse, potterforever098, feerose, talyag, AaheliBlack, Rebakah, slythernprincess, Cole the Demon Hunter and Nelle07! Each and every one of you never fail to put a smile on my face.

Next chapter: The night is still young! Emotions are running high, especially poor Charlie's.

Thank you all,

- the punchline.


	21. This is Real

**Chapter Twenty-One - This is Real:**

Charlie left the dance floor both livid and embarrassed.

As soon as the music ended, she had barely gotten a chance to get upright before Felicity marched over and pressed herself sulkily against her date.

The look of hostility the Head Girl had given Charlie was enough for her sparking anger at Sirius to expand tenfold.

_This has been such a complete SHIT day_, she thought furiously as she sloshed some more cranberry juice into a glass, more out of a need to do something with her hands than actual thirst.

_Complete SHIT!_

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Selwyn, who must have followed her off the floor.

"I said this day has been complete _shit_!" she spat without hesitation.

"Ah." His tone teased, but Charlie knew there was an underlying concern.

She turned and leant her bum against the table, clutching her juice close to her face as she took short, dark sips. Selwyn also leant against the table, close enough that his shoulder bumped hers gently.

"I'm not exactly sure what's going on between you two," he said softly, "but it must be pretty messed up if Sirius is letting Felicity dig her claws into him again."

"Did you notice her costume?" asked Charlie sardonically.

"A mermaid. Suits her, hey?"

Charlie nodded, thinking of the screeching, vicious creatures, often with the misconception of beauty, that swam beneath the Black Lake's surface.

Selwyn put his arm around Charlie's shoulders and pulled her warmly against him. She gave a grudging smile as he blew a raspberry on her forehead.

"Listen," he murmured, "whatever has happened, it can't be as bad as you're making it out to be. Especially if it has to do with that sodding flower," he added with a scowl. "One of you has to pull the stick out of your arse and make a move towards peace."

"And you're saying it has to be me?"

"All I'm saying is that the two of you are meant to be good mates. At the _least._" He fixed her with a knowing look that made the corner of Charlie's lips twitch reluctantly.

"Anyway," he heaved, retracting his arm and straightening the both of them. "Sluggy doesn't look too pleased with my services."

Indeed, Slughorn was watching Selwyn from within the circle of smoking warlocks. He didn't look too impressed.

"I better get going."

As Selwyn got back to serving, Charlie wearily decided she'd had enough. She should never have come to the party in the first place.

Wanting nothing more than to curl up in her bed, she made her way through the crowds and began moving towards the exit – until she noticed something that made her eyes widen and jaw tighten.

After a moment's hesitation and a good mental cuss, Charlie stalked over to the gap in the wall drapes where – if she wasn't mistaken – she'd just seen Rurik disappear, hand in hand with Leonie.

She slipped between the curtains of material and as the outside sounds of revelry muffled, she found herself in a small room. It was dark and undecorated, lit only by the orange haze that filtered through the drapes. Charlie would later ponder why the cube of a room even existed, but at that moment Rurik and Leonie had found a very good purpose for it. Pressed up against the far corner, the two of them were giggling softly and whispering as they kissed.

"Rurik!" said Charlie, her harsh voice cracking like a whip.

The two broke apart and Rurik answered Charlie with a surprisingly innocent expression.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, shocked. When he didn't answer, she turned to Leonie. Surely after realising that her attraction to Rurik wasn't genuine, and after hearing Sara's warning... Why would she let this happen?

Charlie's eyes searched hers. "... Leonie?"

"Charlie..." she said, frowning as if at a complete loss as to why Charlie was involving herself. "H-hi...?"

Charlie narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing, Leonie?" she pressed.

"Charlie..." It was Rurik, watching her suspiciously. "What are _you _doing?"

She stared back at him in disbelief. "Y-you!" she cried. "After what you told me –"

"Charlie –" His eyes widened.

"Charlie!" Leonie's eyes were wide and beseeching. "I _like _him," she said softly. "I _really... like _him."

She thought she had feelings outside of the Veela magic. She thought her feelings were real.

Rurik was now staring at the two of them, a look of revelation slowly dawning across his handsome features.

Charlie shook her head sadly.

"Even if that is true..." she told Leonie. She sighed, struggling to say the next words, "Leonie... he doesn't like _you_."

Leonie's lip trembled. Her gaze grew suddenly sharp and heated.

"Sorry?" she said acidly.

"He doesn't fancy you, Leonie, he's probably just using you for a good snog. It's the truth, I'm sorry –"

"Why would you say something like that?" she asked, her words rushing frantically from her lips. "How would you even _know _–? Why would you follow us in here and _say _something like that?"

"It's the truth, Leonie you deserve to know!" she cried. "_Especially_ if you really like him! Getting off with him – you're just setting yourself up to get hurt!" She turned angrily to Rurik. "Tell her! _Tell her _what you told me! Tell her why I'm disgusted by you right now."

Even as Leonie faced him expectantly, Rurik kept him mouth firmly shut. Charlie couldn't believe it. She met his gaze levelly.

"I thought you were such a _rare,_ _decent_ guy," she told him softly. "But I was wrong."

"Leave us _alone_, Charlie!" cried Leonie suddenly, her voice shaking. "Just _leave_!"

She did, but not before giving them both a hard, disappointed stare.

* * *

><p>Her mood and mindset was positively dark as she stepped back out into the party. Glaring, she shoved past guests to get to the arched exit.<p>

"Hey!" Someone protested as she pushed past, and then when she continued without a glance back, _"Hey!"_

Against her better judgement, Charlie turned, eyes already shooting daggers. It was Felicity Parkinson, with a wet stain down the front of her bikini-style top and a half empty glass sloshing about in her hand.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" snapped the Head Girl. "This is the second time your clumsiness has fucked me over, Frazier!"

Selwyn appeared by Charlie's side, face set. "What's going on?"

"Leave it, Selwyn," Charlie muttered, just as Felicity spat, "I was just asking this _inept bint _to stay the fuck out of my way."

Selwyn gave a shout of warning but Felicity ignored it and added heatedly, glaring at Charlie, "And you know what else? I saw you with Sirius during the Courtship. He's _my _date, and I better not see you with your hands all over him again, Mudblood, or –"

"_Oi_!" roared Selwyn, just as Charlie leapt forward. Her resolve had finally snapped and, blood boiling, she swung her fist forward with as much force as she could muster until it collided with the Head Girl's twisted face.

All hell broke loose. People swarmed and shouted. Felicity's nose started gushing dark blood. For a moment, Charlie just stood in the centre, her mind clouded with anger. Everything became suddenly detached.

A distant voice in her mind sneered, _Maybe Rurik's not the only one who needs anger management classes..._

Suddenly, Felicity launched herself at Charlie, nose bleeding and shrieking obscenities. Charlie blinked back into reality, but Selwyn was already bullying his way between in an attempt to restrain the Ravenclaw. Someone grabbed Charlie around the waist.

"Don't you _ever_ call me that again!" she found herself yelling over Felicity's screeches, grappling with whoever held her back. "Don't you _ever _–"

She was being pulled out of Slughorn's quarters and soon found herself in the corridor. Panting heavily, she broke out of her restraint just as Sirius ordered, "What the _fuck _has gotten into you, Frazier?"

"You!" Charlie whirled on him. "_You_ –" She stepped forward and brought her palm to his cheek in a stinging slap.

The sound – resounding throughout the hallways – rung in her ears.

She stared at Sirius in shock. Her anger immediately gave way to a flurry of fear, distress and appal.

Their ragged breathing was the only sound in the halls. His cheek was growing pink. He stared at her, eyes dark and hard.

She felt as if someone had slapped _her. _

And then Charlie stumbled backwards with a sob. She stumbled and Sirius followed. Her back hit the wall and although she tried to look away, his hands took firm hold of either side of her face. Next thing she knew, he was kissing her.

She gasped against his mouth and kissed him back with everything she had. White noise rushed in her ears. She clutched at his robes, wanting him ever closer even as he moulded his body against hers.

Because all of a sudden, she needed him to know; needed him to understand how she felt. How she felt without him. How unbearable it was.

She poured everything into that kiss; her apology and regret, her anger, her need ...

It ended as it had in the Forbidden Forest, with Sirius pressing his forehead to hers. His hands still held her face and she looked up at him, already afraid of what had just happened.

His grey eyes were turbulent as they searched hers.

"How can you not believe this?" he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "How can you not believe... This is _real._"

She stared at him. He was so beautiful, it was heartbreaking.

The blazing light from Slughorn's archway that split the darkness of the corridor was suddenly interrupted by a frantic silhouette.

Leonie Franks ran into the hallway. She was crying.

"Leonie?" Charlie broke away from Sirius and immediately moved towards the distraught girl.

"Charlie!" she cried, her voice thick and shaking. Tears streamed down her beautiful face. "Ch-Charlie, I'm s-so sorry..."

"No, shh, it's okay..."

"I have to l-leave... P-Please, let's l-leave..."

"Leonie?" Sara appeared in the archway. She saw the two girls holding each other and ran forward. "What happened? Are you okay?"

A door opened down the hallway and they all turned to see Lily moving towards them, clutching the skirt of her ragged gown. It was clear from her the tight corners of her mouth and the strict line of her brow that she was angry.

"Lily... What happened?" asked Sara.

As the redhead drew closer, she noticed Leonie and her anger cleared to be replaced with concern.

"Nothing," she said, taking hold of Leonie's arm with a frown. "Nothing... Let's leave."

The trio hurried down the darkened hallway. And with one sorry glance back at Sirius, Charlie joined them.

* * *

><p>AN: Very short, but fairly intense, too. What do we think about Charlie's actions throughout this chapter?

Guys, thanks so much to everyone who answered my question last week! I was so overwhelmed by how many people actually took the time to think about their favourite character and give reasons too! Really, you guys are so amazing, and I promise I will get to replying to every one of your reviews!

So, special thanks go to: Pink-And-Green-Jellybean, Merry Wanderer of the Night, Cole the Demon Hunter, brookiecookie1024, feerose, talyag (It's so wonderful to hear that you can relate, that's probably one of the best things a writer can hear! But in saying that - I'm so sorry about Rurik in this chapter!), Sam, HarryPotterGeneration, Nelle07, Hellfire Putten Ninja, Dancing in a Midnight Storm, Cisselah, AaheliBlack, Rusichan, Rebakah, Sawyer, potterforever098, Erya, Anitina and mixedbreedswag! You guys rock more than rocks do!

And in case anyone was curious, Selwyn is my favourite character :) I was over the moon to hear that other people love him too! He's just got those typical teenage boy characteristics, but he's not cocky like James or Sirius and he's such a great friend to Charlie. Oh, and protective Selwyn is always fun to write haha

Hope you're all enjoying the story,

- the punchline.


	22. Today's an Exception

My dear god, guys! I'm so sorry I did that to you! I went overseas for 3 weeks and had very limited access to the internet! I was supposed to upload a chapter before I left and warn you of the potential month-long hiatus, but things got so hectic and - as you already know - I didn't. Again, I am so sorry! Eeeespecially to Cole the Demon Hunter, who just before my uncalled for drop off the face of the internet, said he was glad he'd found a writer who scheduled weekly updates! Aah, Cole the Demon Hunter, you've no idea the guilt I've experienced!

But anyway, I'm back now (: Back to weekly updates, I promise!

The editing of this chapter was a bit rushed, so please do let me know if there's any errors for me to fix up! Now enough of my babbling, if anyone needs a refresher on what's going down, **this is the morning after Slughorn's Halloween Party, during which there was some serious sexual tension between Sirius & Charlie, Charlie confronted the snogging Rurik & Leonie, Felicity called Charlie a mudblood and got punched in the nose because of it, and then Charlie, in her ultimate state of emotional distress, slapped Sirius, to which he responded by snogging her. And then Leonie interrupted them in a teary mess, and then Lily came and she looked like she was angry too, and then Sara came, and then the four girls just disappeared into the night. The end.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two: Today's an Exception<strong>

The next morning Charlie woke well before any of the other girls. She lay where she was, numbly watching the sky turn light through the window. The soft snores of the other three girls created a gentle, calming ambience. They had fallen asleep, all four of them, on Lily's bed trying to comfort Leonie. Charlie could feel the timid girl's curly hair tickling her cheek, and her small hands hugging her arm.

When eventually Charlie did leave the bed, the movement of the mattress, despite all her care and effort, woke each of them.

"Are you going for breakfast?" asked Sara sleepily from the far end of the bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and squinting against the early daylight. She still wore her toga, though it was now crumpled. Her voice was but a hum in the muffled quiet of the dormitory.

"Yeah," said Charlie, pulling on her tennis shoes.

"I'll come too."

Leonie gave a small yawn. "And me."

"Hmm," Lily stretched. "Me too."

They were among the first students at breakfast. They were so early in fact, that Professor Trelawney (who preferred to avoid the hustle and bustle of the public domain as much as possible, as it clouded her Inner Eye) was sitting at the staff table, presumably eating breakfast. Although, she had also surrounded herself with seven tea cups, so Charlie suspected the hearty meal was not the only reason she had descended from her quarters.

The girls ate their breakfast quietly, and Charlie revelled with a furtive smile in the peaceful harmony of their company. It was something she suspected they were all grateful to be able to slip into, especially after the discord of the previous night.

Leonie had not stopped her broken sobbing until almost an hour after they'd left Slughorn's party. Clutching a wad of tissues, she'd explained how after Charlie had left her with Rurik in the room behind the drapes ("I'm s-so sorry, Charlie. I kn-know you were just looking out f-for me, I'm so sorry I yelled at y-you…"), the two of them had stayed quiet for several moments. And then, very softly, Leonie had said, "I do really like you, Rurik. … But Charlie's right. If you don't fancy me the way I fancy you… I shouldn't be snogging you."

And then, Leonie said, Rurik got angry. His eyes, usually that lovely clear blue, went dark. So dark they were almost black. He spat words at her, some she didn't even understand – others she did. Nasty words; words that insulted her modesty; words that tore at her very character. She refused to repeat them though. "He didn't mean them," she told them, her frail voice persistent. But it had been enough at the time; enough to frighten, insult, disgust and anger Leonie all at once. She was crying long before she realized, and it was when she was scrambling for the gap in the drapes, desperate to get away from him, that Rurik's eyes finally mellowed. He blinked and made a noise like he'd choked on something. And then he was apologetic; the kind and beseeching boy she'd fallen for. But Leonie said she was in something like hysterics by then. All she could think of was how stupid she was, how it was all her own fault, how she just had to get away. And she did. And that's when Charlie found her.

The four of them were huddled under the covers of Lily's four-poster when the story finished, each feeling miserable. They fell asleep in the silence that followed.

Surprisingly, it wasn't long before Mac and Remus joined the girls at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Charlie had expected them to rise earlier than the others, however, as they were the only two who had forgone James' 'invitation' to the party, opting instead to stay in the Common Room and help each other finish homework. Or rather, Remus helped Mac.

Light conversation had struck up between the four girls by the time they arrived, and the two sat on opposite sides of the table, easily continuing their own conversation.

"Could you read over my conclusion when I finish it today after Quidditch practice?" asked Mac, grabbing two slices of toast.

Remus grimaced and Charlie absently noted a paler tone in his skin, and a weariness etched into his already thin face. "I can't tonight," he said, "sorry Mac. I've got, um, I've got to help…"

"Oh that's fine, don't worry about it," waved Mac with a smile before he could finish the sentence. She turned to Charlie. "Morning Charl, how was the party?"

Charlie forced a smile onto her lips, though even as she did she knew it wasn't fooling anybody. Remus placed his fork back onto the table and, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, regarded her thoughtfully. Mac's expression became more analytical.

"It's was – um… It was fine," continued Charlie despite their obvious worry, with another empty smile. She ducked her head, sending Mac a sidelong glance that said, _I'll tell you later. _

But truth be told, she didn't know what she was going to tell Mac. Her mind was rushing with thoughts – frantic. So much so that it had all become white noise. She was eating her breakfast, participating in conversation, noticing the happenings around her… all with a fuzzy, heavy blankness in her mind. It was as if there was so much to think about, her mind simply did not know where to begin.

"Hey."

Charlie looked to where Mac had been sitting minutes ago, only to see Selwyn instead.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Alright, calm down, no need to throw a party or anything. Please."

"Sorry," Charlie muttered, rubbing her temple, though the number of crinkles in her brow did not lessen. She glanced back at him. "What are you doing here? Sundays you sit with Deanna."

Filling a goblet with pumpkin juice, he huffed busily and said, "Yes, well... Today's an exception." He took a sip of the drink and then set it down, folded his big arms against the table and looked Charlie squarely in the eye. "How're you holding up?"

Charlie's affectionate smile was genuine then as she realised _she _was the exception. Selwyn grinned too.

"Eh, you'll be right," he said, clasping one hand on her shoulder. Their gazes held as he continued to grin at her, Charlie felt her own smile widen. Eyes twinkling, Selwyn got back to his breakfast.

She spent the rest of the day in the dormitory, doing not much. It wasn't even that she was spitefully avoiding going outside, it was more that she simply could not be bothered. Or, that was what she told herself. She talked with various people as they moved in and out of the room, and gave a rather empty, factual recount of the night before to Mac when the younger girl climbed the stairs demanding answers. Her most memorable conversation that day, however, was with Lily.

The redhead was in quite the sour mood - the remains of the anger she'd stifled so quickly last night, Charlie assumed - and had spent almost an hour moping about her four-poster until Charlie put down the textbook she'd been staring at blankly and asked, "What happened to you last night?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Lily huffed at once, blowing a strand of fiery hair from her eyes as she re-fluffed her pillows. She was in the process of making her bed for possibly the third time that day, though Charlie wasn't paying enough attention to be completely sure.

"You're certain?" asked Charlie sceptically.

"Yes," she sighed impatiently, with a contradicting edge to her tone. She bustled about the room, snatching up various workbooks and an inkpot. "Yes, I'm certain."

Charlie watched the redhead over the edge of her textbook as she tottered busily about with the pile of study utencils, flicking a stray blouse onto her bed with the toe of her shoe and then yanking the hangings of her four-poster shut.

Just as she was marching towards the door, Charlie carefully offered, "… James is such a prat."

"James is _such _a prat!" agreed Lily exuberantly before moving out onto the stairwell and slamming the door shut behind her.

And then, in the quiet that ensued, Charlie smiled to herself. Because she knew in that moment that, contrary to Sara's warnings, all James' pestering had in fact been worth it. Because finally,it was not 'Potter' who was the prat. It was James.

* * *

><p>The setting sun was splaying a strong yellow across the dormitory when Mac marched inside for the second time.<p>

"You've missed dinner," she announced, hands on hips. "Are you still brooding?"

Charlie was sitting on the floor beside her bed, refolding clothes and tidying her trunk.

"Maybe," she said with a scowl. "But I'm also being highly productive."

"Sirius is downstairs," said Mac briskly. "I want you to go and talk to him."

Charlie set down the trousers she'd been folding. They were quiet for a moment.

"And tell him what?" she asked tiredly.

"Tell him _the truth_, Charlie! _Tell him that it's_ _real. _Stop deluding yourself! You know just as well as he and I do that the Nereus Ville left your body months ago. But that's not even the question anymore, is it? The question… is whether you're too cowardly to do anything about it."

It was a terrible thing to say to a Gryffindor. Mac knew it even as she said it. But later, Charlie would be grateful for her friend's harsh words.

"He _kissed _you!" Mac cried when Charlie stayed silent. "He kissed you, yet the way you're acting he might as well have stolen your favourite toy! I'm not going lie, Charl, I don't understand what you're doing at all."

Charlie stared at her hands. "He's my friend, Mac," she said, willing her to understand.

Mac shook her head. "He's not just you're friend anymore, Charl. He hasn't been for a long time."

Frowning as the concepts grew in her mind, Charlie turned her gaze back to her trunk of belongings. There, they latched onto the smooth, rich fabric of the peach dress Sirius had bought her, peeking out from beneath a blue jumper. The smile that upturned her lips as she'd folded and placed it there after the Christmas banquet was one one might just describe as tender.

Her eyes widened as she recognised it, and for a second, it felt like her heart sighed. She felt a liberating air rush through her, and lighten her shoulders.

And just like that, she knew.

It was true. Mac was right. It was _real. _

* * *

><p>Minutes later, she was descending the stairwell into the Common Room, each step with more purpose, and more excited than the last.<p>

Mac was right! Sweet Merlin, Mac was right! Mac, Sirius, and every book she'd ever read in the library concerning the Nereus Ville! Her feelings were her own. She'd just been too scared to realise.

And it was about time she told him.

Her eyes found Sirius immediately, locking onto the back of his curly head as he followed James and Peter out of the Common Room. His shoulders were tense, as they had been the night he lead her across the Hogwarts grounds towards the Willemina tree.

"Sirius!" she called, but her voice came out much softer, more breathless than she'd intended. He didn't hear.

The Common Room was filled with students, relaxing and playing games on their Sunday evening. Charlie dodged them impatiently as she hurried towards the portrait hole. When she scrambled out into the hall, it was deserted. She couldn't see the boys anywhere.

"Did you see in which direction they went?" she asked the Fat Lady.

"Yes, dear, that way," she replied, though she did not take her eyes off her sewing as she fluttered her fingers in a vague north-westerly direction. There was no hallway leading that way.

Charlie stared at her two choices; the corridor running straight ahead of her, or the corridor running to her left. Both were empty.

The idea surfaced for a moment that perhaps she should just return to the Common Room and find Sirius another time, but it was squelched almost immediately. _Find Sirius another time_? Preposterous. It was simply not an option. Now that Charlie knew that what she was feeling was real and – and _strong_... She needed him to know. _Now. _

She took the left corridor at a sprint, knowing her best chance was finding them at the Grand staircase. Portraits muttered reproaches as she hurtled passed, interrupting their pleasantly calm evening. She stopped and started several times, whether it was to ask the painting of Barnabas the Barmy if he'd seen three seedy looking boys or because she thought she saw movement behind a tapestry or down a dark corridor. Many of these times she had seen movement, but it was only of innocent students or not-so-innocent couples.

She hurried down flight after flight of stairs, her eyes darting every which way for any sign of Sirius or any of the Marauders. Finally, as she was scurrying down the marble staircase of the Entrance Hall, she heard something that made her instinctively crouch behind the banister.

"... _expected _you, as my _date, _to _be there_, when I awoke in the Hospital Wing!"

It was Felicity Parkinson. Charlie peered down between the bars of the banister to see the top of her blonde head, standing with her straight, aristocratic nose inches from a contrastingly stoic Sirius'.

"Imagine my surprise," she said, voice trembling with either anger or devastation – or both, "when I learnt that not only had you not even attempted to defend me, or bothered to check whether I was even _alive, _but the last time you were seen was when you were dragging _her _from the room!" Her hands were raised, fingers stiff and bent in anger. "What am I supposed to think, Sirius? If you had attended the party with her, then fine! Drag her off into a dark corner! Snog her – _shag _her, for all I care! But _you were MY date, _last night, and for the life of me I cannot remember any boy who's left me feeling more humiliated!"

"Well fancy that," said Sirius darkly, "Does that win me a medal, or...?"

Felicity glared. After a moment, Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

"Where're you going? – I'm not done with you Black!"

But from further away in the Entrance Hall, a voice called, "We've got to get going, mate!"

Charlie looked and saw James standing with Peter by the large doors to the grounds. His face was set as he waved Sirius over. Charlie crouched further into the shadows, not wanting to be caught in such a sneaky position.

"Look, did it really come as that much of a surprise, Felicity?" Sirius was hissing. "Because somehow I find it really hard to believe you'd think I'd choose _you_ over Charlie Frazier."

He stared at her for a second longer before striding off to meet his friends. Felicity gave a growl of annoyance before spinning angrily on her heel and disappearing behind a tapestry.

Now was her only chance. Charlie leaped to her feet. She ran down the remaining stairs and staggered to a halt at the landing.

"Sirius!" Her voice was still breathless, but this time it echoed.

The three boys paused at the doors. Sirius turned the slowest. His grey eyes, even from the distance, bore into hers.

She licked her dry lips and swallowed. "I have to talk to you."

* * *

><p>AN: This chapter was originally a lot longer, but I chopped it in half! Tell me what you think, hopefully the month in between these updates didn't put you off!

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, oh-so-long-ago: Merry Wanderer of the Night, talyag, Cole the Demon Hunter, slythernprincess, Rebakah, Hellfire Putten Ninja, Rusichan, Nelle07, AaheliBlack, pun33t.n, Night Hawk 97 (thank you for actually reviewing every chapter haha! You're so great!), U, Uberloopy, Allison olivia and anon!

You guys are so ace, and deserve so much better than me!

Thanks everyone for reading,

- the punchline.


	23. Oh, the Joys

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Oh, the Joys**

"I have to talk to you."

She watched as Sirius stole a glance at James, who hesitated before muttering something. Sirius nodded before turning and jogging solemnly up to Charlie. The two remaining Marauders slipped outside onto the orange-washed grounds.

"Sirius," she began in a fluttering voice, twisting her fingers as he arrived before her. He watched her carefully, his grey eyes intent and anticipating, coaxing her – it seemed – to say the words he wanted to hear. She took a breath. It caught in her throat. She swallowed, and this time managed a word; "Hi."

She cringed slightly, and the corner of his mouth tightened in a stifled smile. A small smile slipped across her own lips. And then she was fighting an embarrassed chuckle as she looked anywhere but him, knowing that if she did catch a glimpse of his teasing little smile, every ounce of the solemnity she'd envisioned herself delivering this declaration with would just be demolished. She looked at the marble floor between them and closed her eyes, biting the inside of her lip hard. And then she began.

"I don't know –… I don't know _why_… it's taken me so long. But," she looked up at him – he'd moved closer – and sighed, "last night? … I'm sorry," she shook her head slightly, "but Sirius, I-I've never felt this way – about anyone – before, and –"

"Charlie."

"Yes?"

She'd looked to him hopefully, and for a second it seemed he was going to put her out of her misery and just tell her to shut up and kiss him – which she would have gladly obliged – but then he gave a swift exhalation and said, "I have to go."

"What?" She felt the last of her deteriorating motivation fall out from beneath her. Her shoulders slumped.

Again, he seemed to fighting a smile. "But I fully – _fully _intend on letting you finish."

"Right."

"But I have to go."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"…"

"I'll talk to you la – soon. Tomorrow. Morning."

She nodded speechlessly.

He made as if to turn away but then stopped himself, "And Charlie?"

She stared.

He held out a hand to emphasise; "Don't –… Don't lose that thought."

She nodded.

Again, he made to leave before stopping himself. "Oh, and Charlie?"

She stared.

He closed the gap between them and leaned forward, hesitated, pulled back, and then swooped in again to press his lips quickly to hers.

He left then, and still not entirely sure what had just happened, Charlie sank numbly down onto the step of the Grand staircase, her fingers hovering against the warmth of her tingling lips.

* * *

><p>Sirius was in his own world as he hurried through the darkening grounds to catch up with his friends.<p>

"Come on boys, we don't have much time," said James when he met them, and they continued in a swift jog into the elongated shadows of the Greenhouses. Sirius saw James glance towards the east, where behind a blanket of thick clouds the full moon hung. The three of them picked up their pace.

His mind wandered back to the hallway outside Slughorn's party. He was standing with Charlie, away from that blazing block of light of the party, kissing her. He'd known after that kiss, as he pressed his forehead to hers, that any inkling of doubt he might have held, any possible thought that _maybe, perhaps _it _was _the Nereus Ville that was effecting Charlie, and he'd just let himself get carried away in her affection... it was all banished. He was certain, from that one kiss, she felt just as strongly, just as truly for him as he did for her.

And finally, she knew it too. He promised himself, right then, that he'd never forget her face, only a minute ago, wide-eyed and flushed, after he'd kissed her. He smiled. He'd never forget.

As they finally approached the Womping Willow Sirius forced his attention back to the present. The tree swung its slow, creaking branches menacingly before them, daring them to come nearer. Without a word, Wormtail transformed into his rat Animagus and scurried forward to press the special knot in the temperamental tree's roots. It froze. The rat disappeared into the gap beneath a particularly thick root.

Out of a mixture of habit and paranoia, both Sirius and James looked to the looming castle one last time before they followed Pete into the tunnel. James slipped in first. Sirius crouched and had his feet inside when movement within a nearby bush caught his eye. He watched it alertly for a moment, until he heard James' voice hiss at him from below to hurry up.

He dropped himself in the rest of the way, slithering down the slope and landing in a crouch. The tunnel was dark as usual, but his eyes soon adjusted, managing to make out the end of his best friend's smooth transformation into a proud stag.

Sirius cricked his neck before leaning forward to place his hands on the uneven earth before him. Though when they touched the ground they were no longer Sirius' hands. They were Padfoot's paws.

His tail wagged lightly as his previous whirl of thoughts dissipated from the simple, animalistic mind. He padded off down the tunnel, following the outline of Prongs.

Almost fifteen minutes later, the tunnel began to rise. It twisted, and then Padfoot squeezed himself through a small opening and into the drawing room of the Shrieking Shack. He straightened, feeling his shoulders broaden and his thin hind legs lengthen and grow thicker with muscle. He was human. Again, he cricked his neck before surveying the three teenagers in the dark, disorderly room.

Remus was sitting in a wooden chair, the only piece of furniture that did not have great chunks missing from it.

"... was beginning to think maybe the three of you had bumped into Madame Pomfrey as she left or something," he was saying, rubbing his yellow-tinted face with an unsteady hand.

"Nah," said James. "But trust that the _one _night I've forgotten my Invisibility Cloak in the Astronomy Tower, Padfoot seems to be the female population of this school's Most Wanted," he said, throwing a hand in Sirius' direction.

"What do you mean?"

"_Girl_, after _girl_, after –"

"Felicity Baker and Charlie," corrected Sirius tersely. "Two girls."

Remus frowned. "What's going on between you and Charlie?"

Sirius shook his head. "Never mind that now. How are you holding up? Do you reckon we can explore the fields behind Hogsmeade again tonight, or are you going to break into the butcher's sausage supply like last time?"

Remus smirked, strands of his hair falling into his darkening eyes. "You know I can't guarantee anything."

They all sniggered and joked for a while longer before James eventually laughed and sighed, "Oh, the joys of running with a werewolf."

There came a sudden strangled cry from the tunnel opening behind Sirius. They all spun to face it, wands out and all traces of laughter gone.

"Who's there?" demanded James, moving forward to stand with Sirius and block Remus from view.

There was a frightened whimper and the distinct sounds of someone trying to scramble away. Sirius rushed forward and, after grappling for a few moments, managed to take hold of an arm and haul the intruder into the room.

It was Felicity. Dirt-smeared and pale, she cowered for a moment under all their shocked gazes before straightening her shoulders and tipping up her chin.

"Felicity, what are you doing here?" growled Sirius, not loosening her hold on her arm. Her fair skin looked a dull grey-blue in the gloomy boarded-up darkness of the Shack.

Her lip trembled for a moment but her voice was steady as she bit, "I followed you. I'm Head Girl! Did you really think I'd let the three of you just slip out onto the grounds, minutes before nightfall without a single question?" Her gaze fixed heatedly on James. "And you! You're Head Boy! Dumbledore trusted you, gave you privileges and responsibility that I knew were beyond what you deserved and look – _look _how you've thrown it in his face!" She looked fearfully passed them at Remus, who regarded her calmly from where he sat in his chair. "A werewolf!" she whimpered, looking, despite her fierce expression, as if she might faint.

"Dumbledore already knows of Remus' condition, Felicity," said James lowly. He had not yet lowered his wand. "He's a gracious man."

Felicity shook in Sirius' hold. She licked her dry lips. "If that's the case, he is a foolish man. Fortunately, I don't believe you. I'm going to tell him. Mark my words, he'll know."

"_Dumbledore knows everything,_" said James, his voice rising.

"Everything?" she panted, struggling for the first time against Sirius' grip on her. He did not let go. "Does he know you're unregistered Animagi as well?"

She waited to gauge their reaction. They showed none, and thankfully Peter was standing too far back in the shadows for his trembling fingers to be noticed.

"It's true isn't it?" pressed Felicity breathlessly. "You're too young for it to be legal."

"I'm telling him," she said when they didn't answer. "I'm telling him everything. This isn't – this isn't allowed. This is wrong. You –" she stared at Remus, wide-eyed, "you are wrong." She licked her lips.

"Dumbledore isn't here."

"What?"

"Dumbledore isn't here," James repeated, his voice low and rough. "You know that, Felicity. He's attending a hearing at the Wizengamot. He won't be back until –"

"Tomorrow noon." She swallowed. "I'll tell him then. I'll tell him, James – I will. He must know."

"Tell him," said James levelly. "Find him, tomorrow at noon, and tell him. He knows. You'll see."

Felicity swallowed again. She stared at them all. James, standing tensely with his wand raised. Remus, weak in his wooden chair, his typically warm eyes black and his skin sickly. Peter, hunched in the shadows, beady eyes wide. Finally, she glanced down at Sirius' hand, grasping her arm.

"Let go of me," she whispered. He didn't. "Black, I'm warning you –"

"Let go, Sirius," said James.

He released her. She staggered away from them all, raising her own wand instantly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "We're not going to hurt you."

But her hand went to the arm where Sirius had clutched her, and he realised maybe he already had.

She jabbed her wand in Remus' direction. "Are you – Is he – Is he turning tonight?"

James nodded. "It's the full moon."

Her eyes widened, the tremble in her hands growing. "You can't keep me here," she gasped, moving towards the tunnel once more. "I'm leaving."

"Felicity –"

Sirius and James stepped forward, their wands directed at her. She froze.

"You can't tell anyone," said James firmly, once he was sure he had her attention.

"I'm telling –"

James raised his voice again. "ANYONE except Dumbledore."

They eyed her firmly.

"No one would believe you anyway," said Sirius conversationally. "Warm, intelligent, kind-hearted Remus... a werewolf? No, that would never work."

She regarded them all steadily. Her voice betrayed her fear however, as she demanded shakily, "Am I free to go?"

"Of course Felicity," drawled James pleasantly, as if she'd merely asked to borrow a quill. Then he smirked. "Unless you'd rather stay."

She staggered backwards once more. She crouched before the tunnel opening.

"I'm leaving now," she said. They nodded encouragingly.

"Oh, and Felicity," Sirius stopped her once more.

"Yes?' she said through gritted teeth.

"Remember," he smiled pleasantly. "You may tell no one, except Professor Dumbledore."

She scowled, though Sirius knew it was out of spite rather than true daring that she said, "Or what?"

He smirked at her before glancing at his friends; the rat, stag and werewolf. He looked back at her and shrugged, grinning.

She got the message.

* * *

><p>AN: The other half of the last chapter :P The end of this chapter, and okay, the next chapter too, is a bit darker and more intense than usual. Tell me if you guys aren't really feeling it, or your thoughts on where the story is headed.

Super cool thanks to my super cool reviewers: Amanda, Rusichan, slythernprincess, sonofafluffymuffin, Merry Wanderer of the Night, PenBeatsSword, Nelle07, talyag, Night Hawk 97, Cole the Demon Hunter, The Weatherwitch and saudade do coracao!

Thank you everyone who is reading, oh and special thanks to that lovely soul who put this story onto 'The Originals' Community! Thank you!

- the punchline.


	24. Lumos

**Chapter Twenty-Four - _Lumos_:**

Charlie huddled behind her bush and pulled her robes tighter around her shivering body. It had been nearly twenty minutes since she'd followed Felicity down to the Womping Willow. The sky was almost completely dark but for the shot of light blue that was the horizon.

She wasn't sure what she was doing there, she wasn't sure what outcome she was hoping for. All she knew was that she'd been sitting alone on the marble steps, not even a minute after Sirius had left her, when suddenly the Head Girl hurried passed at a pace that staggered on the edge of a run.

Felicity had been muttering angrily to herself, and Charlie caught the indignant words "Head Girl" and "think I won't figure out what their up to?". She'd risen to her feet and, without thinking, followed the Ravenclaw carefully out onto the dark grounds.

Felicity ran surprisingly fast, and Charlie only just managed to glimpse her disappearing behind the Greenhouses before she took off after her. She turned the corner panting and with a cold-bitten face. She looked frantically across the grounds. It was a moment before she spotted the Head Girl's blonde head once again. Felicity was crouching behind a bush, peering at a strangely still Womping Willow. And then, without any warning, she darted forward towards the trunk of the tree and – she was gone.

Charlie blinked. She ran forward in hot pursuit, her breath rattling, but just as she was nearing the tree and slowing with a frown (Felicity still nowhere in sight), the Womping Willow gave a sudden twitch.

She froze. She had heard enough stories from the boys' younger years to know that the Womping Willow was not a plant to be reckless with. She took a careful step backwards and – as a thick branch came instantly soaring towards her – just managed to leap away in time. She hit the ground hard and rolled away from the flailing, twisting tree. Her cheek was stinging where a twig had slashed it, and she held her sleeve to the cut as she scrambled behind the bush that had previously hidden Felicity.

And that brought her to the present.

Where was Felicity? Had she really disappeared? Had she meant to? Was the Womping Willow … some kind of portal? Where were the boys? Assuming they were the ones Felicity was following – had they been transported too? When were they coming back? _Were _they coming back?

She shook her head. She was getting carried away. She needed to relax. She took a deep breath and forced herself to listen to the calming sounds of the Hogwarts grounds. The screech of the cicadas, the rustle of the distant Forest, the whistle of the breeze…. She focused on the gentle, almost rhythmic swaying of the Willow's branches nearby. She closed her eyes, keeping her breathing steady.

It worked for what must have been several minutes, until her pattern was disrupted. She frowned. The Womping Willow wasn't swaying in time anymore. In fact… It wasn't swaying at all.

Her eyes flew open and she hastened to stand before stopping herself midway. Instead, she stayed in a crouch and peered carefully around the bush.

She was right; the Womping Willow was completely rigid, as if someone had cast _immobulus _upon it.

Charlie heard panting coming from the tree. She frowned and forced herself to look closer; harder. The tree couldn't pant, could it?

Her answer came when she spotted two small white hands grappling the ground by a gap in the roots. They were followed by a familiar blonde head and a scowling face, and soon Felicity had pulled her entire body out of – not a portal – but what looked like an underground tunnel of some sort.

Charlie watched, her breath bated, as Felicity dusted dirt from her hair and knees before shooting a furious look at the frozen tree and hurrying towards the castle. Charlie ducked as she passed, and waited the few seconds it took for her to merge with the shadows of the grounds before darting out of her hiding place and sprinting right up to the trunk of the tree. It wasn't until she had her back pressed against its rough bark that she allowed herself to breathe. She looked frantically at the surrounding branches, watching for any sign of retaliation. There was none.

She looked down at her feet. There, inches from where she stood, was the gap in the roots from which Felicity had emerged. She stared at it, heart pounding. She crouched and, keeping one hand firmly on a thick root, peered into the black depths of what lay beyond.

Suddenly, she saw a twig on one of the closest branches jerk. Her head snapped up as she realized that all around her, leaves, twigs, branches – it was all coming back to life. Before she knew it, the Womping Willow was sending another large, club-like branch her way and with a sharp gasp, she dropped herself into the hole.

She slipped down the packed dirt slope and landed at the bottom, unable to see a thing. She glanced back up the slope and could see a patch of the rapidly darkening sky, interrupted though by the frantically thrashing branches of the Willow. There was no way she could go back up without being clobbered to death.

Grasping her wand, she whispered, "_Lumos_", gazed anxiously at the low, dirt tunnel that stretched before and, wetting her dry lips, ventured into it.

The tunnel was long, and though she was bent almost double, she found her pace quickening with every step until eventually, she was running. Where was she going? All she could think was that she had to find her friends; find her friends, find Sirius, and then find a way out.

The tunnel began to rise. She scrambled forward and moments later it twisted and suddenly, there was a patch of dim light through a small opening. Breathing hard, her back aching, Charlie extinguished her wand and crawled forwards only to freeze upon hearing voices. But not any voices; familiar voices.

"… don't have time, we'll have to figure it out later. Remus –?"

"Yes. I can feel it."

"We'll wait upstairs, and come back in when you've transformed."

"Go. Quickly."

There was something terrible about Remus' voice. Charlie had never heard it so ragged and weak. She hurried forward, ignoring the pain in her hands and knees, just in time to catch a glimpse of James disappearing into a dark, dusty hallway and the door closing behind him.

Where were they? From what she could make out, the architecture didn't look like anything she'd seen in the Hogwarts castle. It looked like someone's house. She was about to push into the room herself when something stopped her.

It was Remus. His breathing had become loud and laboured. She could hear him, somewhere just out of her sight. She craned her head forward and there he was. His shoulders were hunched. He had the sleeves of his cardigan rolled up, and the veins in his forearms were bulging, his hands shaking as he removed his shoes and socks.

"Remus?" she whispered. He looked deathly ill.

She swallowed.

"Remus," she said again, and though her voice was soft, it carried through the muffled silence of the room. She crawled through the opening of the tunnel and into the dank, demolished room. The windows were boarded up, scraps of the torn curtains littered the stained floor, along with table legs and other pieces of furniture. There was even a shredded, yellowing copy of the Daily Prophet in the corner. It smelt like something was rotting.

Remus stiffened. He turned to face her at once.

"Charlie?" he rasped.

"Remus, I followed Felicity..." His eyes were so dark, it was scaring her. "Where are we?"

She swallowed and approached him. "Remus, why are you so ill?"

"Stay away from me," he gasped, holding out a hand as he stumbled back himself.

"Wh-what?"

"Get away from me!" He pulled his cardigan over his head and threw it to the floor with his shoes. It left his hair standing up in all directions. He staggered into the very corner of the room and for the first time in Charlie's memory, Remus looked wild.

"Remus, please – let me help you –"

"LEAVE," he yelled, and his eyes suddenly bulged. He convulsed and grabbed his middle, as if someone had stabbed him viciously in the stomach.

"No!" she cried, lunging forward.

"Charlie, listen to me," he gasped, forcing his gaze to meet hers as if it physically pained him. "You need to run. Run as fast as you can – _listen to me!"_ His entire body was jerking uncontrollably, his shoulders hunching and the skin on his arms rippling and growing a greyish tinge. His eyes were completely black, and when he bared his teeth they were yellow – with fangs. "_Leave_," he growled, and his voice was deep and strangled.

"R-Remus, what's happening, please, let me –"

"CHARLIE!" He bellowed her name one last time before it turned into an almighty roar. Remus' chest burst forward and his arms flew back, the muscles clenching and rippling. The veins in his neck pulsed and the fangs she'd glimpsed in his mouth became prominent, the buttons of his shirt burst apart and the hair of his arms and face were growing thicker, longer –

The door burst open behind Charlie.

"Pete – take her – GO!"

Something – a horse? – no, but it had antlers – galloped in front of Charlie, rearing and blocking the screaming Remus from sight. Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards – Pete – pushing her through the small opening – back into the tunnel, she glanced frantically back into the room – Remus was unrecognisable, a monster – the stag, and something else – something big, and black – they were running.

"Peter!" gasped Charlie as they ran through the tunnel, backs bent. "Peter – what's happening?"

"Don't speak," Pete panted in the darkness behind. "Don't speak – don't _breath_, if you can help it – just _move –_"

And that was all he said.

They hurtled through the tunnel, howls, growls and screams echoing behind them. Charlie's heart pounded in her ears. Her whole body was throbbing with pain, adrenaline, fear – she didn't know what. She dared not slow, but even if she stumbled a step Pete was pushing her instantly, panting in her ear and herding her ever forward.

"Don't stop moving," he'd gasp. "Don't stop –"

Just when Charlie was beginning to fear her chest would explode from the strain and that they'd run into a wrong tunnel, one that wound through the earth for miles and miles, they finally staggered to the end. Peter must have known when they were nearing it, because at some point he had managed to slip passed her and now he pulled himself through the gap in the roots first. The hair was standing on the back on Charlie's neck; she could hear the howls growing louder; nearer. Peter's arms reached down and she gave hers to him willingly, letting him help her scramble up through to the grounds.

She had barely a second to notice that the Womping Willow had once again become a statue or wince at the pain in her wheezing chest before Peter seized her arm. He was pulling her, tugging her relentlessly as they took off once more, streaking across the moonlit lawns to the Forbidden Forest.

"Peter!" Charlie gasped, digging her heels in as they approached the edge of the foreboding trees. "Peter, what's happening – we can't go in there –"

A howl split the night and Charlie whipped around to stare across the lawns at the Womping Willow, beneath which was, unmistakably... a werewolf. It stood on its haunches, its massive head thrown back against the black sky. And then, very slowly, it turned and looked directly at her.

Charlie staggered backwards. The distant werewolf leapt towards her but the stag galloped ahead and was rearing in front of it – and there was that black blur again – but then Peter had taken hold of Charlie once more and was running with her into the Forest. And this time, she didn't complain.

They hurtled passed tree after tree, the eerie mist biting at their faces. Charlie cried out as her foot snagged on a protruding tree root; she stumbled, but did not stop.

She could hear it; the werewolf. When she closed her eyes, she pictured it. It's eyes crazed in the pursuit, hunting her down like prey, tearing down shrubbery and fighting off its attackers as it ran after her. Those other creatures – the stag, the black animal – she knew, somehow, that they were helping her. Just as Peter was.

"Charlie, here!" He stopped suddenly and, taking her by the arms, pushed her ahead of him towards the trunk of a particularly twisted, gnarled tree. "Go!" he cried, "Climb it – move!"

She took hold of the closest branch and, with Pete's support, found a knob for her foot and hauled herself up.

"Keep moving, Charl! Don't stop – don't look back down –"

He repeated the words like a mantra behind her and she focussed on them as she climbed; she found calm in them. Her body was scratched and stinging, but her hands especially felt as if they were burning every time she took hold of another coarse branch.

Pete grabbed her suddenly.

"Here –" he said, pointing her along a long branch that ran horizontally. She clambered onto it with relief and he followed soon after. But the relief was short lived; it felt as if she'd climbed a mile high, though when she looked down it was clear they couldn't have been more than fifteen feet above the Forest floor.

The sound of galloping and heavy feet pounding rhythmically against the dirt grew rapidly louder. It was coming.

Charlie gulped. "Peter," she whispered, searching her body frantically for her wand. "Peter, do you know the Disillusionment Charm?"

Peter shook his head. "Even if I did it's no use Charl; he can smell you."

And seconds later, it came into view.

The werewolf stalked the vicinity, its form hulking as it held its nose to the ground. The black animal – a huge, shaggy dog – emerged out of the darkness too, though it kept its eyes trained on the werewolf. The stag followed from the other side.

Charlie's nails dug into the bark of the branch. She inhaled one slow, rattling breath.

The werewolf's head snapped up, and its eyes began raking the bowels of their tree.

Charlie cringed. "Oh god, Peter..."

Pete's hand found hers and tightened around it just as the werewolf suddenly bounded forward. Charlie let out a strangled cry as its front paws hit the base of the trunk with such force the entire tree shook. She and Peter seized their branch, holding on for dear life.

The werewolf had heard Charlie's cry and fixed it's black, yellow-tinted, blood thirsty eyes on her through the branches. It clawed at the trunk and jumped upwards, jaws snapping. Charlie let out another shriek, and though the creature could not reach higher than ten feet she felt as if it would bite her toes off at any second.

The dog and stag had lunged forward and were throwing themselves at the wolf; butting it and biting at its limbs in an effort to distract it. But it was no use; it was too strong, too determined.

"Peter!" Charlie cried, for he was suddenly attempting to climb down. "Peter, what are you doing?"

"Stay there, Charlie! Do not let go!"

"What? – No – Peter –"

"I can help!" And then he threw himself off the tree and disappeared – or so she thought. She glimpsed something small – something furry – fall to the ground from where he'd been, but in all the chaos she couldn't be sure.

She gasped as he vanished and then gasped again when the werewolf flung itself at the trunk once more, spit flying from its ferocious jaws as it twisted and reached for her between the branches.

And then it gave a sudden piercing howl, twisting towards one of its hind paws in agony. Charlie saw the distinct trickle of blood against its fur – and then it was incensed. _Furious. _It threw itself against the tree for a third time and with a heart-stopping jolt, Charlie slipped.

She let out a shriek as she fell through the bowels of the tree, twigs and branches snagging at her clothes and body. Her hand fumbled against her robes for her wand, but then a branch caught her shoulder and her body jerked sideways, sending her arm flailing. Charlie gave a strangled cry as her hand smacked against another branch and with a shark _crick, _pain shot through her wrist.

And there came a thunderous roar – a cross between a bark and a growl that registered in Charlie's mind even in all the chaos – and then there was a brown blur beneath her and she landed with an "_Oof!" _on the back of the stag.

She struggled to right herself as the animal galloped away from the tree and the werewolf. Charlie could hear it yelping behind her and swivelled to look over her shoulder. Her hair flew in her eyes and the wind made them sting, but Charlie could make out the outline of the werewolf pinned to the ground, snapping at the black dog that kept it there.

Charlie wrapped her arms around the stag's neck, being careful of her injured hand and its magnificent, thick antlers, and trying her best to keep her legs as tight around its middle as she could. She'd never ridden a horse before, let alone a bareback deer, and later she would recall it as one of her most uncomfortable experiences, a notch below what happened next.

The stag galloped into a clearing and although Charlie's vision was jerky and chaotic, she could make out a wide, flat lake. They were headed right for it.

Suddenly, the stag skidded to a halt, lowering its majestic head and bucking violently – Charlie flew through the air with a yell. The next thing she knew, she was struggling back towards the surface of the murky lake.

Her face broke the icy surface gasping and coughing water. Treading water, she looked about frantically. There was no sign of the stag that had carried her here. No sign of the werewolf; no sign of anybody.

She forced her breathing to calm, closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed her body in the sudden peace.

And then, heart pounding like a drum in her ears, Charlie remembered where she was. She was in the Forbidden Forest. She was treading water in a lake in the Forbidden Forest.

Her eyes flew open and she swam madly for the shore. Merlin knows what creatures were swimming just inches beyond her ankles! Her feet hit the gravelly bottom of the lake and she waded forwards, still hacking and spluttering. She was drenched completely and as she emerged shaking from the lake, the frosty air attacked her body.

Movement caught her eye. Through a gap in the trees, she could see the werewolf, its nose to the ground once more. The stag was circling it warily. Charlie stilled at once.

What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? She knew she had moments before it followed her scent and found her. If she tried to make a run for it, she'd never even make it out of the forest before it caught up with her. If she stayed where she was – that just wasn't an option. Her best choice was to climb another tree, higher than before, and stay there until it, hopefully, grew bored with the chase.

She'd read in Defence Against the Dark Arts that werewolves' eyesight wasn't keen; it relied mainly on smell and sound. She would have to move as quickly and as quietly as possible.

_Now. _

Suddenly, Charlie heard the thundering of paws once more. She looked to the werewolf – but it had not moved. Its ears, however, did perk suddenly at the sound of the drumming footfalls. The thuds grew louder – something was coming for her – she spun around, and there it was – the black dog. Charlie had no time to even take a breath before it was upon her, its paws landing heavily on her shoulders as it leapt through the air and knocked her back into the water.

Her scream was muted under the water. As she struggled to the surface, she became aware that the dog holding her down had an arm suddenly around her waist. A human arm. Her face broke out of the water for the second time and she thrashed around to see who was holding her.

It was Sirius.

Her shocked cry was muffled as he clamped a hand over her mouth and spun her around once more. He held her tight against his chest and breathed raggedly in her ear, "Are you mad? You have to stay in the water! He can't smell you here."

She _was_ going mad. This was _mental. _Sirius had been a dog, only moments before! A huge, shaggy black dog.

He waded them a few feet further from the shore of the lake, so that Charlie's hair fanned out across the surface of the water, lapping at the lobes of her ears.

The werewolf padded quietly into the clearing. Charlie stilled and sunk lower into the water, until only her wide eyes were not submerged. She dared not to take a single breath. The wolf's nose was to the ground, and then he lifted it to sniff the air, confused. The stag followed behind.

Charlie's eyes fluttered close. She focused on the warmth of Sirius' hand against her lips, and his body surrounding hers in the water. She could feel his heart beating against her back, and knew hers was pumping just as fast. She rose slightly to expose her nose and forced herself to take long, deep breaths.

"Everything's going to be okay," Sirius panted quietly as they watched the werewolf paw at the ground by the shore and sniff at the trunks of the trees only metres from them. Charlie realised she was trembling. "You're going to be fine. I'm here now. I'm going to get you out of here. Everything's going to be fine."

They waited there for maybe half an hour. The werewolf padded away long ago, whining gently, and the stag lead it further into the woods. But still, they did not dare exit the lake. Sirius let go of her mouth and together they waded into shallower waters. They waited there, completely silent.

There came a sudden rustling nearby and Charlie clutched her wand, only to see that it was Peter. He stepped out from behind a tree, looking exhausted and suddenly much thinner.

"It's safe now," he panted. "Prongs has taken him deep. He chased a couple of centaurs and then stalked a mooncalf for a bit – really enjoyed that. But anyway, he's forgotten about you completely."

Sirius nodded and began to lead Charlie out of the water. Her hands, she saw, were blue. Her teeth were chattering. But she paid none of this attention. Something Peter said had struck her. _Prongs has taken him deep. _Prongs was a nickname the boys used with James. But Peter was referring to the stag; the stag, with antlers... prongs. James. _Prongs. _

She looked at Sirius, and she understood by the severe gaze he sent back that he knew she'd made the connection.

She noticed Peter turning back into the Forest.

"Aren't you coming with us?" she asked.

Peter gave a small smile, and it surprised Charlie how much older he looked.

"No," he said. "He needs me."

And he disappeared into the darkness.

Charlie turned back to Sirius. His was frowning soberly at her, thinking hard. She stared back.

"It's still not safe," he muttered eventually. "Just because Moony is gone doesn't mean you aren't in danger anymore."

Charlie closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of dizziness. _Moony. Remus. ...Werewolf. _

"I've got my wand," she said after opening them.

He gazed at her. "It's not enough. I need to shift."

Charlie stared at him for a moment. She wasn't delusional; Sirius had been a dog. _Padfoot. _

She swallowed and nodded.

"You have to stay by me," he said. She nodded again.

* * *

><p>The walk back to the Shrieking Shack was eerily quiet. The night sky, only fleetingly visible through the canopy of the trees, was pitch black, the only light being cast by the bright orb of the full moon. Stark and mysterious trees rose above her, standing in every direction to the very edge of her sight. Cool mist floated amongst her ankles and she could feel the weird night-things watching her, making the hair on her arms stand erect against in the chilly air.<p>

Padfoot walked with his warm side brushing against Charlie's leg. She was glad for the small comfort and kept her wandless hand buried in his damp, shaggy fur coat.

"_Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_..." she whispered as they trekked through the forest litter. "The Marauders." He gave a soft harrumph of approval.

It wasn't until they were back in the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack that the adrenaline in Charlie's blood began to fade. Padfoot had acquired a limp after dodging past the Womping Willow to press what looked like a knot in the roots. It managed to knock him about a fair few times before it went rigid, and Charlie now watched with apprehension as he moved doggedly through the dank tunnel, his pants filling the silence.

An enormous fatigue settled over Charlie, the bodily strain of the last couple of hours making itself suddenly and unavoidably present in her awareness. Her legs felt like jelly, buckling beneath her frequently. Her head spun and her throat felt raw. She was shivering as if someone had hexed her, and her injured wrist began throbbing heatedly.

Finally, after what must have been more than half an hour of walking, the tunnel rose and they found themselves at the opening into the old, ruined room.

"What is this place?" asked Charlie once they'd clambered inside, her voice a ragged breath in the still air. She turned to see Sirius standing behind her, the remains of his black fur receding quickly into his cheeks and arms. He cricked his neck.

"The Shrieking Shack," he replied. And then, upon seeing her wide eyes, "Remus would be the sole resident ghost."

He lead her, no longer limping, into a dark, dusty hallway and up a set of rickety stairs. They reached the landing and moved through an unhinged door, Sirius lighting a small oil lantern on a nearby ledge with his wand to reveal a dank, tiny crumbling bathroom, tinged green by mould. There was a porcelain sink, a matching bathtub and a toilet also matching, all covered in dust. Charlie sat gingerly on the edge of the tub as Sirius opened a cupboard on the wall and withdrew a grimy bundle of white cloth. He dropped it in the stained sink below and untied the knot to reveal a collection of bandages, cloths and ointments.

As he sorted through them, Charlie removed her dripping, muddy robe and, after wringing it into the tub, draped it over the side and dried it using a spell. Sirius wasn't wearing a robe, but his shirt and trousers, like her own, clung damply to his body.

Shivering, Charlie watched as he dabbed an unlabeled bottle of thick, glutinous potion on a piece of torn fabric and approached where she sat, a small crease prominent between his brows. Taking her chin lightly in his two fingers, he tilted her face upwards and began to gently dab at her cheek with the cloth. The cut given to her by the Womping Willow seared momentarily, making her wince, but then went suddenly very cool.

"It'll be gone by tomorrow," Sirius muttered, not meeting her gaze as he tilted her face to both sides, inspecting for more wounds and dabbing where he found some. Charlie watched the stoic expression on his face as he worked; the firmness of his jaw, his skin, bathed a soft, dank green, pulled tight over his high cheekbones and his black brows, lowered and drawn slightly over his hardened eyes.

His hand hovered above her skin for a moment as his shadowed gaze roved over her face. She swallowed as it slid down her neck, feeling all too aware when he ran the damp cloth almost religiously over a scratch against her collarbone.

He continued to study her, eyes moving down her arms until they came to her wrist. She glanced at it too, and saw that it was swollen red and bruised, sitting crookedly against her knee.

Sirius leant over to the bundle in the sink, retrieving a new, murky brown bottle and a roll of bandages. She winced as he lifted her wrist gently and began to carefully lather it with the new ointment. When he was finished, he wrapped it tightly.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his voice a rugged hum in the muffled silence that surrounded them.

She swallowed against her dry throat. "Better."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

She shook her head.

He nodded and began to roll up his left sleeve, attracting Charlie's attention to a large red stain that was spreading across the wet material.

"Sirius –"

He nodded. "I need you to bandage it for me."

"Did the Womping Willow do that to you?"

He shook his head. "It was Moony, that blasted tree just tore it open a bit more I think... Don't worry," he added upon seeing her worried expression, "I've had worse."

It was not a comforting thought.

He rolled the sleeve passed his elbow, until it became too tight to move over his bicep and reveal the wound.

With a sigh, Sirius began to unbutton his shirt, but he was still holding the roll of bandages in his right hand, and when he bent his left arm the bunched sleeve dug into his wound, making him hiss.

"I'll do it," Charlie murmured, gently pushing away his hands.

Never before had she noticed any suspicious number of scars on Sirius' body that might suggest he ran with werewolves and stags by night, but as she slowly peeled away his damp shirt, several were revealed. He was still wearing a singlet, but it did nothing to hide the fact that his shoulders, upper chest and arms were littered with the silvery memories of wounds. Frowning in both intrigue and sorriness, she let her index finger run gently over a particularly prominent scar below his collarbone. Sirius tensed a moment, and his hand lifted to graze her hip as her gaze flicked to his, only to drop away again as she quickly returned to the buttons of his shirt.

There was not a single noise in the house but for their breathing as Charlie continued down his abdomen, her fingers tensely slipping each button from its hole. She tried not to think about the many times she had imagined herself doing just this, but under different, more passionate circumstances. She wetted her lips.

She could almost feel the tension of the situation bearing down upon her shoulders.

Finally, the last button came loose and the two halves of the shirt fell away from each other. Avoiding his gaze in the pretence of focussing wholly on her task, Charlie carefully slipped the shirt from Sirius' shoulders and off each of his arms. His stare wasn't easy to ignore though; it seemed to burn right through her.

She cleared her throat and placed the shirt over the edge of the bathtub alongside her robe.

"Okay," she murmured hoarsely, and cleared her throat again. Sirius handed her the thick potion and cloth he'd used to heal her cuts and she took it nervously.

The wound in Sirius' arm was a jagged tear that ran diagonally across his bicep. It looked deep, and it looked painful. Thankfully, his wet shirt had absorbed most of the blood, keeping the wound clean, although most of his upper arm had been dyed a blood orange colour. Sirius' jaw tightened and the muscles in his arm bunched in immediate strain as she pressed the cloth to the cut. She tried to block out his pain and focus on treating the wound. She tipped more potion onto the cloth and continued to dab at his arm. By the time she was finished Sirius' body had relaxed, and she knew he was experiencing the cooling sensation as the potion began its healing process.

She took the bandages from him and wound it tightly around the still gaping wound, securing it with a knot.

"It'll be gone by tomorrow," she muttered, teasing lightly.

Sirius smirked lightly, and it sparked in his eyes just long enough for him to say, "Not likely," before they turned severe once more.

She returned his brief smirk before stepping passed him to return the potion and remaining bandages. When she turned, she almost collided with Sirius' chest. He must have turned with her. She'd forgotten how small the bathroom was.

She made a noise of surprise and he steadied her with a hand on her arm. She wetted her lips for what seemed like the hundredth time that night before looking up to meet his gaze. He was standing very close.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Her heart thumped loudly, straining almost painfully in her chest.

And then she heard herself whisper breathlessly, as if from a distance, "It's real."

His hand swept up immediately to stroke the side of her face.

"It's real, Sirius," she whispered, as he lowered his face carefully towards her. His nose brushed the side of hers, and she let her eyes flutter close. "It's so real..."

* * *

><p>AN: ... Nnnnnggh. What do you think?

I know this was a very typical chapter, and many of you thought we'd steered clear of this cliche, so I do present this chapter to you with a slight shamefully hung head. I hate having the cliches! But she had to find out about the true Marauders sooner or later and afla;lskdf;deioj. This chapter was also very action/adventure and I've never really written those genres before, and reading through it I feel like it was just describing events rather than telling a story. Please let me know your honest opinions, and as always I'm completely open to all constructive criticism!

Special thanks as always to: Night Hawk 97, PenBeatsSword, talyag, saudade do coracao, AaheliBlack, The Weatherwitch, dlovesknoxville (You wrote my 200th review - weeow!), slythernprincess, UberLoopy, MissLiquidLuck and StarkidKerrie!


	25. Deserving or Not

**Chapter Twenty-Five - Deserving or Not: **

As soon as Charlie woke the following morning she was bombarded with a whirlwind of thoughts and memories of the night before, as if her unconscious mind had been mulling over them in her sleep and now that she was awake, had thrust them forth saying, _Here, YOU deal with it. _

Her eyes, even as sand-crusted as they were, shot completely open and she stared at the canopy of her four-poster.

So much had happened last night. She was torn between being overjoyed with where she was with Sirius – a beautiful, pink-bathed place of soft kisses, entwined fingers and gentle gazes – but anxious because she didn't know where they were headed now (did this mean they were a couple?), and being absolutely shocked by the revelation that three of her good friends were unregistered, illegal Animagus' and another friend shifted into a werewolf once a month!

Charlie, despite the warmth of her bedsheets, felt a shiver run down her spine. She'd learnt about werewolves and the magical illness of lycanthropy in her third year; how once transformed, lycanthropes lose all human mentality. Even the gentlest human would turn on his best friend in this state. Charlie felt a heart-wrenching sadness. Remus… her dear friend Remus Lupin… How long had he been battling with such a terrible affliction? Lycanthropes typically lived in poverty, what with all the discrimination and restrictions they faced in the wizarding world. Is this what lay ahead for Remus, too? Despite all his intelligence, despite his trustworthy, _beautiful _nature… was his future so unpromising?

She curled her body into a ball and lay on her side, staring dismally through the window at the bleary morning sky. He deserved none of this.

* * *

><p>"Are you coming down to breakfast?" Selwyn asked Sirius as he emerged from the bathroom, buckling a leather belt into his school trousers.<p>

"Yeah," he replied, having finished straightening his Gryffindor tie in the mirror. "In a bit."

He waited until Selwyn left before throwing a pillow at the lump in the bed beside him that was James, and then another at the lump across the room that was Peter. Remus, who Sirius suspected had not even fallen asleep since his return from the Shack a few hours ago, was already sitting up in his bed, his weary face pale and distraught.

"Charlie –" he said immediately. "Is she alright? Did I –"

"She's fine," interrupted Sirius firmly, before Remus could continue to torture himself with the possibilities. "Moony didn't touch her. She's shaken; yes, filled to burst with questions; probably, but fine."

"What, didn't you explain anything last night?" asked James with a frown as he rubbed the sand from his eyes.

"I didn't want to say anything without consulting you lot first. And she didn't ask me anything either. We were busy, I suppose."

Despite all the anxiety and seriousness in the room, James still managed a smirk. "Yeah, I bet you were."

Sirius bristled at once. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come off it – I'm your best mate! Of course I've been noticing the way you look at her, Sirius! It's like fourth year all over again, but worse – the two of you couldn't be more obvious if you had it spelled out across your forehead in acne!"

Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times as Remus and Peter also broke out into a chorus of fervent agreements.

"Yeah? What about James and Evans?" insisted Sirius loudly. He turned to his best friend. "Yeah! Not the only one who's been noticing things, are you? You've been sneaking off to see her almost every day this week! What do you think he was doing up in the Astronomy Tower when he forgot his Invisibility Cloak?" he added to Remus and Pete, who were looking stunned.

James groaned. "Don't talk to me about Evans," he huffed irritably. "She's a little minx."

As the chatter grew, Sirius waved his hands at them all to shut up before demanding, "Alright, alright – Felicity, then – what are we going to do about her?"

They sobered immediately.

"How can we trust that she hasn't told anyone yet?" agreed Peter.

"I know her," said James confidently. "There's only two people she'd ever trust with information as important as that of Remus' furry little problem and our own animalistic tendencies, and that's Dumbledore and herself." He looked at them all firmly. "Trust me, she's kept her mouth shut."

"Until noon today," reminded Remus. "And then she's still going to spill all to Dumbledore about you three. And then what? He'll know we've gone behind his back – all four of us."

Sirius understood, as they all did, that this was Remus' largest regret about their midnight adventures. He worshipped the Headmaster, would be forever grateful – the last thing he wanted was to betray his trust. Though that was exactly what they did every month.

James was nodding, thinking hard. "We can't have him know about us."

"Come on boys," muttered Sirius reluctantly. "We all know what we have to do."

It was true; he'd voiced what they'd all been trying to avoid. How many times had they discussed it, promised that when it came down to it they would commit to it fully, for Remus' sake if not their own?

James nodded again. Softly, he said, "We've got to erase her memory."

"Today," Sirius confirmed severely. "Before lunch."

Remus and Peter were nodding, though neither seemed happy about it.

"Who's going to do it?" asked Peter, his tone and expression anxious. "We can't all ambush her, she'll be suspicious afterwards when she comes to and we're all standing around her with our wands raised."

They were silent for a long moment.

"I'll do it," said Sirius. "Subtly, when she least sees it coming. She'll want to talk to me anyway, I expect."

"You're sure?" asked James after another moment's silence.

He nodded and then looked down at his hands. "Leave it to me."

* * *

><p>"Did you find him?"<p>

Charlie started. She'd been staring at her eggs, which had somehow taken the shape of a crazed werewolf, bracing itself against a tree as it snapped ferociously at the two humans clinging to its branches, only to find that her vision had gone hazy, swimming alternatively with the sober faces of Remus and Sirius.

"Hmm?" she turned to see Mac's excited grin promptly drop.

"I take that as a no, otherwise I should think you'd be a tad more chipper."

"Who, Sirius? Ohh, no I did find him actually," said Charlie forcing a small smile. "And I told him."

Mac's face lit up. She mustn't have caught the bitterness in her voice. "You didn't!"

Her smile turned into more of a grimace. "I did."

Mac became utterly bewildered. "Then what's the matter with you? For Godric's sake, you were looking as if you were on the narrow verge of depression just a minute ago!"

Charlie sighed. "Eh, well it's complicated."

Mac rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "Yeah, I bet it is." She shovelled a forkful of her own eggs into her mouth, having gained a sudden great deal more energy. "Just as complicated as it was in fourth year, I bet. Well I'm warning you now, I'm not letting the two of you back out of anything. It's about bloody time you confessed your feelings and got together, and this might just be the highlight of my school life – warms the _cockles of my heart – _so if you have any goodness in your soul, you'll just go ahead and get married." She ate another forkful of eggs. "He _has _confessed his feelings hasn't he?"

"I thought he did, yes."

Mac beamed widely, mouth bulging with her breakfast. "Wonderful."

She must have mistaken the edgy emphasis on _thought_ for some kind of amused sarcasm.

See, Charlie also had thought things were on the fast-track to 'wonderful' with Sirius... until earlier that morning when she'd treaded anxiously up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, deciding she needed some answers from all of them, only to hear Sirius volunteer himself to _obliviate _any trace of the last night from her mind. The fast-track made a very violent U-turn then.

She'd been twisting her fingers by her navel as she approached the landing of the boys' dormitory, and stayed staring at the door for a long moment. All her questions fled for that second as she wondered, would they be angry at her? For following Felicity to their secret spot, causing a trouble beyond her dreams? She had put them all through strife, purely because she wanted to tell Sirius she fancied him. Well, it was a bit more than _fancy... _but still. Would they call her childish? Stupid? Selfish?

She took a deep breath. However they felt, none of them could avoid having this talk sooner or later. _Time to face the music, Charlie. _

She stepped forward to knock on the door, but then paused. She could hear them talking in low voices on the other side, and knew they were discussing last night's events.

"... all four of us," she'd managed to make out, and then someone muttered, "can't have... know about us."

She heard Sirius' voice, full of resignation: "Come on boys. We all know what we have to do."

She frowned; it all sounded very foreboding.

"We've got to erase her memory."

Her breathing staggered. She jerked away from the door as if she'd been electrically shocked. She felt a panic rising. Whatever she'd been expecting from the boys, this had not been it. They weren't even going to talk to her about it? They'd already decided she couldn't be trusted with their secret?

'Today. Before lunch."

"Who's going to do it?'

Everything they said just whipped her mind into a greater frenzy.

"I'll do it."

Her eyes widened. Sirius? Her heart thundered in her chest.

"She'll want to talk to me anyway, I expect."

She couldn't believe it. She stumbled back and then ran down the stairwell, fighting a sudden surge of tears. Minutes later, she found herself in the closest girl's lavatory, experiencing a trembling panic attack – a state of such emotional distraught she'd never even thought possible for her, Charlie Frazier – until she scrunched her eyes shut and forced herself to 'get it together, Frazier'. Still shaking slightly, she slid the cubicle lock out of its bolt and went to a sink to wash her face, taking deep breaths. The Gryffindor girls were already suspicious of Charlie's 'fell asleep in the Restricted Section finishing a Charms task' excuse for not returning to the dormitory last night, the last thing she needed was them to notice her absence from the breakfast table as well. And so it was with that thought of logic – rather than those associated with the concept of having her memory erased by the hand of an unregistered Animagus she'd possibly fallen for – that Charlie sat beside Mac struggling to consume her eggs.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you Charl!" the younger girl exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm, her eyes squinting into half-moons as she smiled massively. "You won't regret this!"

Charlie lifted her eyebrows ironically at her plate. But she already had.

* * *

><p>By the time her first class was over that day (Muggle Studies), Charlie had taken on a new approach to the situation. She'd been through shock, sadness, betrayal, panic – all that before eight-thirty. Throughout breakfast she'd endured anger and bitterness. And now, an hour later, she felt solid; determined. No one was going to erase <em>her <em>memory.

The bell rang and Charlie bullied her way through the masses towards the courtyard. She was going to find Sirius. She was going to give him a piece of her mind.

But he couldn't be found. She searched the courtyards, searched the main corridors and gazed across the grounds. The halls began to empty as students moved quickly into their second class. What subject did she have now? Charlie thought quickly. Charms. Sirius didn't take Charms. What did he have when she had Charms? Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Grubbly-Plank taught Care of Magical Creatures on the grounds behind the vegetable patch. He should be headed there right now. She turned and sprinted, through the hallways once more and back across the courtyards. But then she skidded to a halt. She backtracked, and peered around one ivy-covered stone wall. There, at the very end of a promenade, through one of the arches in the wall, she could see Sirius.

With Felicity.

Or to be more precise, with Felicity's arms snaking over his shoulders. Because he was kissing her.

* * *

><p>The bell rang and Sirius left his first class, Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, with a determined stride. He'd spent all morning preparing himself for this moment. He knew that when he went to Care of Magical Creatures, Felicity was coming back from Herbology to go into Transfiguration. He could head her off in the courtyard.<p>

He hurried through the halls and just as he'd expected, spotted her climbing the steps from the grounds. She noticed him almost immediately and pressed her lips into a thin line, much resembling Professor McGonagall for a moment. Head Girl badge reflecting even in the dull sunlight of the dreary morning, she excused herself from the gaggle of Ravenclaws and matched his purposeful stride until they met in the centre of the arched promenade.

"Hello," he said, tightening his jaw for a moment at the sight of her cold, pompous expression.

"Hello, Black." She turned on her heel and marched towards the very end of the walkway, placing her books on a stone bench there. He followed. They were more concealed from the milling students by the walls and creeping vines now. He wasn't sure of her reason for the inconspicuousness, but it suited him just fine. He didn't want first years dropping their frog spawn as they watched him _obliviate_ the Head Girl's memory.

"Have you told anyone?" he asked lowly, when she merely stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Not yet," she quipped, jutting out her chin. "But I've got a wager." She leaned forward, just as she had last time they were in the courtyard together, though there was no lilting suggestiveness to her demeanour today, her eyes were succinct and scheming.

"What do you want?" he muttered. How he disliked her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for a moment Sirius thought his feelings were mutual, until she said, "Your complete commitment and participation."

"In what?"

"In a relationship. With me."

His eyebrows contracted as he stared at her in disbelief. "What?" he all but spat.

"You heard me, Sirius. Commit to a relationship with me – a public, romantic one – and I won't tell anyone of your little _mischief. _Not even the Headmaster."

Blackmail. He was stunned into an angry silence, his mind working fast. She wanted _him_?

"Why... How would that _ever _work? What would you gain out of it? You'd know my feelings wouldn't be genuine."

"Oh, I don't care about _genuine feelings_," she said with a smirk. "Put yourself in my shoes, Black... and just picture the _satisfaction _of watching you having to endure the public display... the lies... the heartache as you were torn from your _precious Charlie Frazier..._" Her smirk grew as she twirled a lock of blonde hair on her finger. "I'm a spiteful woman, Sirius... you know that."

His fists clenched. He was furious.

"It wouldn't be for too long," she continued pleasantly, taking his silence well. She stepped forward. "Only a month or two," she said, a knowing smirk appearing on her thin lips as his nostrils flared.

She stepped ever more closer.

"It would be easy, really... As easy as one..."

She was close enough Sirius could see the blemishes on her seemingly perfect skin.

"Two..."

Her lips were hovering below his, twisted into the malicious smirk.

"Three," she whispered against his lips, and Sirius stood stock still as she kissed him.

She kissed him slowly, spitefully, and Sirius could feel the triumph rolling off her like the smoke of a greedy fire. Her arms were moving over his chest, snaking across his shoulders when he raised his hand and held his wand tip an inch from her temple. Finally, he broke away and, stormy eyes hidden behind firmly closed lids, hissed, "_Obliviate._"

Her eyes turned empty as he took a step back, pocketing his wand. She looked completely vague for a moment, before her gaze slowly came into focus on his face and she blinked into a sharp frown.

"What are you doing here?" she ordered.

He eyed her as if she were unhinged, forcing himself to smother the hatred in his veins. "Er... you were just yelling at me to get my handsome buttocks to class, Felicity. You all there today?" he added, peering at her as if he actually gave a rat's arse about her state of mind.

"Yes of course I am, Black," she snapped, before widening her eyes at him reproachfully. "Well off you go then! Didn't you hear me the first time?"

He nodded, sent her a two-fingered salute and, hands tucked innocently inside his pockets, left.

* * *

><p>The job done, Sirius' mind moved on to the next task at hand: Charlie.<p>

A small smile graced his lips, quite like the one that had spread across his features as soon as he'd awoken that morning and instantly flashed back to last night with her. "_It's real,_" she'd whispered. _Finally. _

He hadn't seen her since then, she'd left the Great Hall before he'd come down for breakfast. She was in her elective now, Muggle Studies perhaps, but they needed to talk at lunch. He needed to know what this fanfuckingtastic thing between them was. He needed to put a label on it. And that label needed to read _girlfriend. _

As he crossed the courtyard, the clock over the castle entrance told him he could still make it to Care of Magical Creatures with a vague excuse for tardiness if he wanted to. But he didn't. He moved to the very corner of the courtyard and behind one of the crumbling walls that barricaded it, where about five feet out, a flagstone wall suddenly dropped the same distance down to the grass of the grounds. He sat with his feet dangling over the edge. To his left he could see the distant Quidditch pitch, with its six raised rings visible between the stands and to his right, if he craned his neck around the corner, he would be able to see the Womping Willow.

He sat for more than a quarter of an hour, mulling lazily over the last twenty-four hours. They had left it to Remus to decide whether they would explain everything to Charlie or not, though all had already ruled out the prospect of turning their wands on her. Remus had assured them that he trusted Charlie, but urged them all to be gentle when confessing everything. Sirius knew Remus was preparing himself for the worst when it came to her treatment of him from this point on, but Sirius knew there would be no prejudice from her. But hopefully he'd be able to help her through the inevitable stages of shock, sadness and pity that she experienced when it came to regarding their lycanthropic friend. Hopefully it wouldn't be long before she moved passed his affliction, and was able to see Remus as simply the humble, friendly boy she'd come to love once again.

After a while, when guilt over erasing Felicity Parkinson's memory began to dance on the edge of his thoughts, Sirius slipped his wand out once more. He began conjuring clouds the size of his fist, something he'd loved doing since he learnt how in his second year, and began playing with them – blowing them, swiping his hands through them, that sort of thing – until they drifted off into the slowly clearing sky.

When he thought he had about five minutes before lunch, Sirius pushed himself off the stone ledge and, landing on the soft lawn below, began strolling off to his right, towards the castle's oak front doors which would lead him into the Great Hall.

He rounded the corner and then stopped short. There, sitting in the same position on the very ledge he'd perched on, was Charlie. She had a beautiful purple orchid flower hanging in the air before her. It was in flames.

Ignoring this, or perhaps simply not registering it, Sirius stepped forward with a smile he was unable to contain.

"Charlie!" he exclaimed happily. "Why aren't you in class?"

Then she did something he certainly had not been expecting. She saw him, flicked an innumerable amount of expressions across her features, and then, finally deciding on a blazing frown of resolve, leapt to her feet and pointed her wand stiffly down at him. The flower extinguished and fell delicately to the ground, blackened and shrivelled.

His eyebrows flew upwards. "Wha –"

"I can't let you do it, Sirius!" she announced, sounding a touch hysterical. "I won't!

"Charlie – " His eyes moved rapidly as he took in her trembling hold on the wand, directed at his chest, the tautness of her expression, and the undeniable shine in her hazel eyes. Completely taken aback, he stared up at her and spluttered, "What?"

"I heard you talking this morning!" she told him loudly. "And I'm sorry if you don't find me trustworthy enough, butI _know _now – I know and I don't plan on forgetting any time soon. Whether you deem me deserving or not, I care too much – about all of you – to let you take this from me."

Her voice trembled on the exhale of the last words.

Sirius expression had turned alarmed.

"Charlie –" He moved forward and hoisted himself with a grunt onto the ledge beside her. Dusting his hands as he straightened, he asked, "What are you talking about? – _Bloody hell!_"

He'd looked up to find the tip of her wand a mere inch from his face.

"_What has gotten into you?_" he demanded, louder than perhaps he intended.

She seemed to struggle for a moment between the decision to stay firm or step down. She stayed firm.

"I told you," she insisted, "I heard you talking this morning. I know you're going to erase my memory of last night." Her voice had become soft... Hurt.

Realisation dawned.

"Charlie," he sighed with a very gentle, relieved smile. Something had relaxed into a warm soup in his chest upon understanding that all this was merely the product of a misunderstanding. Her wand lowered, though he didn't think she noticed.

"No!..." he said, shaking his head with a sudden happiness, eyes beseeching. "No, we trust you Charlie! All of us! Of course we do! It wasn't you we were talking about –"

"Then who?" she demanded immediately, eyes heated and suspicious.

"Felicity!" he insisted, still grinning. "Felicity Parkinson!"

"Oh!" she said, her face twisting with a sudden animosity, "You mean the girl you were just snogging, Felicity Parkinson? Is that the one?'

The grin slipped off his face like Stinksap. He inhaled slowly before swearing under his breath and fixing her with a sober gaze.

"I was clearing her memory, Charlie, I –"

"Clearing her memory," she repeated with a terrible false interest. "And have you developed a new method of managing that, Sirius? Hmm? Found a way to suck it right out of her mouth, have you?" Her eyes hardened, as did her jaw.

"She came on to me!"

"Not that you seemed to mind!"

"It was the best chance I had," he said slowly, emphasizing each word heatedly.

"You could've –"

"You think it's easy?" he shouted, and later the sudden anger would surprise him. "To eradicate the memory of a girl you share half your classes with? A girl that – yes, Charlie – that I've kissed? It's not! So yes, alright, she's the wicked witch of the West – but the last thing I wanted was to see the emotion in her eyes right before I wiped her memory!"

Her posture slumped, her eyes having receded into a resigned misery. Sirius knew she believed him, but his triumph was short lived. She looked away from him, across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch.

A perilous moment passed.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said softly. A single tear had slipped down her pale cheek, clenching Sirius' heart. She wiped her eyes with a slight frown.

"I never want to betray your trust." He stepped carefully towards her.

The corners of her lips tilted beautifully, though very slightly, upwards. Her eyes were still sad as she nodded and, placing a hand on his cheek, stepped slowly forward and pressed a lingering kiss against his dried lips.

They broke apart quietly and she murmured, "I'm sorry," to which he could only shake his head in dismissal. She gave a small but genuine smile, and he watched her as she then bit her lip and kept her gaze thoughtfully downcast. He knew it was less him that was worrying her than the weight of the entire year descending heavily upon her shoulders. Her hand slipped from his face to hold the front of his robes. She stayed there, and a ghost of a smile played delicately on her mouth as he began to nuzzle the side of her face.

After a few more moments, when he'd coaxed almost a full though reluctant smile from her, he tested the waters by gently teasing, "You fancy me, don't you?'

She did smile then, but smothered it by lilting up to press her lips languidly to his. And then, mimicking the response she'd given the last time he'd asked, she murmured against his lips, "Only sometimes."

It wasn't much of a declaration, but Sirius' heart soared. Every negative emotion that had festered in his chest, trapped by the weariness, anxiety, hatred, shock and anger he'd experienced in the past day alone – it was if they were set free, leaving the cage of his chest fresh, light and jubilant.

He grinned and, glad to be able to continue the mimic, whispered contentedly, "You were _all over me _last night."

Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and he hugged her tightly, almost lifting her off the ground. They both happily agreed that he hadn't had anything to complain about.

* * *

><p>AN: c:

Raining gratitude to those who reviewed last chapter: Pink-And-Green-Jellybean, saudade do coracao, MissLiquidLuck, Rusichan, Amanda, Miss Lemci, talyag, slythernprincess, EyesClosed93, katchile94, Rebakah, potterforever098, The Weatherwitch, Nelle07, Me, Night Hawk 97 & PenBeatsSword! Your insight and support never ceases to amaze me guys!

Thank you to everyone who's reading,

- the punchline.


	26. Epilogue, Perfect Conditions

**Epilogue - Perfect Conditions:**

_Three months later…_

Charlie skipped through the oak front doors and down the stone steps, breathing in the fresh morning air of late spring. A grin spread across her face, and she ducked it momentarily so as not to appear completely unhinged to all the other students. The entire school was making their way across the green sunlit lawns towards the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. It was the championship final with Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and there was much anticipation in the air.

She was running late, and as the ten minute warning whistle pierced the roar of the gathering crowd, her brisk walk broke into a jog, slowing only when she neared the stands.

Spotting Rurik and Errol moving towards the door to the Ravenclaw viewing stand, Charlie smiled – a bit tersely – and sent them a small wave. Both returned the greeting with the same degree of awkwardness before disappearing through the door.

As Charlie broke into a run and continued around the pitch towards the changing rooms, she pondered vaguely on the regret that her friendship with Rurik had never really had a chance to reach its full potential. It was true that it had been a tosser move to pull Leonie into the room behind the drapes despite knowing her feelings for him weren't casual, but Charlie was almost sure that in time, she would have been able to move passed that. After all, he seemed otherwise a truly decent boy – everyone made mistakes. But he distanced himself from her immediately after that night, sitting in the back row with Errol the next Potions lesson so that when Charlie came in, she had been left to slip into the seat beside Lily. He was ashamed, she suspected, of both his careless actions and the following outbreak of Veela anger towards Leonie.

But she was determined, nethertheless, to keep things at least polite between them.

A particularly loud chorus of "GRYFF-INDOR, GRYFF-INDOR, SEE US SOAR, HEAR US ROAR!" filled the stands as Charlie skidded into the hallway of the changing rooms, only to spot the red and gold robed heroes in the distance, already moving purposefully off towards the gates. With an aggravated cuss, she sprinted towards them.

It wasn't until she was several yards away, and the team was almost at the gates, that they heard the slapping of her trainers against the hard stone floor.

"_Christ, _Charlie, I thought you'd never arrive!" exclaimed Sirius, as the rest of the team also expressed fervent relief. He hurried forward to grab her outstretched hand and pull her, alongside a newly rejuvenated team, towards the gates.

Sirius' grip in Charlie's hand was tighter than usual as they marched, and she watched him from the corner of his eye to try and determine the cause. He caught her peeking, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"Nervous?" she asked.

He sighed, avoiding a real answer by wrapping his arm – hand still entwined in hers – across her shoulders and replying, "Not now that you're here."

She rolled her eyes but squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Remus is saving a seat for you, right?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

"In the very front row?"

"Yes."

"Good."

The team arrived then at the tall gates, and both Charlie and Sirius quieted. The Gryffindors took deep, dramatic breaths to calm their nerves, gazing through the gaps in the wooden boards at the blue sky beyond.

"Perfect conditions," observed Selwyn, his barrel chest thrust outwards with pride.

They all smiled for a moment before James, at the head of the pack, whirled around with a clap of his hands.

"Alright!" he barked. "Charlie – let's go."

After a moment's embarrassment, she turned to Sirius with a hesitant breath. He was grinning.

"Get a move on," James groaned, "we don't have time for your lovestruck shenanigans!"

"Oh, honestly," Mac scolded the captain with a grin, "just 'cause you've already had _your _Before-the-Game ritual."

The team sniggered, as James had not been ashamed in announcing as he stood from the breakfast table that morning that he was off to have a motivational snog with his girlfriend Lily Evans.

They quieted as Sirius slipped an arm around Charlie's waist.

"Come on Frazier," he grinned. "Don't be shy."

She smiled too before laughing and leaning forward to press her lips to his cleanly shaven cheek – only to have him twist at the last second and capture her lips with his own.

There was an immediate eruption of whistles and hoots and Sirius grinned into the kiss, pulling Charlie cheekily closer. He eventually pulled away with a laugh, and although Charlie attempted a disapproving eye-roll, she couldn't smother her own flushed grin.

"Good luck Sirius, I hope your game goes well," she recited with a breathless laugh. His eyes sparkled and the team cheered.

Needless to say, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup that year.

* * *

><p><em>Finis.<em>

* * *

><p>(AN): I apologise for the delay in this chapter, especially as it was so short. But it is the last, and I wanted it to be perfect! I did some extreme last-minute playing around, before deciding to post the original anyway which, yes was annoying, but I think worth it considering the satisfaction I now feel.

Thank you thank you thank you and a thousand more thank yous to everyone who has supported me and given me their insight throughout these past months. I've learned so much from all your feedback, and I cannot wait to apply it to my future writing. _The Willemina _has taught me so much about my writing, and almost all of it can be credited to you.

I don't want to blabber too much. But from the bottom of my heart, thank you again, and I really do hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it.

Hopefully it won't be too long before you read more from me, I've already got several pages of my notebook covered in scrawl concerning a Next Generation fanfic.

Thank you,

- the punchline.


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